Lost Story
by Cody the Impaler
Summary: The original Lost Story has been erased, and this one has been put on its place. This story centers within Adrian's home village, and is not canonical to my other stories. Still, I think it's one of the best stories I've written in a while.
1. Down at Vasile's Inn

**Author's Note:** Greetings everyone! Well, I decided to write a new Castlevania story. You may notice that the title to this one is the same as the one I wrote about a year ago, which I did not finish. I decided that I simply did not like it, but the title was a good title. This story is again outside the canon, but the ideas that I have flowing in my head, I think are going to make this story one of the best that I have written in a long time. As always, I ask you to please read and give critical reviews.

_Down at the Olde Mill Inn,  
we'll laugh, and dance, and sing.  
We'll drink and play the hours away,  
down at the Olde Mill Inn_—

"Olde Mill Inn"—Blackmore's Night

**Lost Story**

**Chapter I**

Vasile's Inn was not only the local inn for the village of Warakiya, Romania. It was also the local tavern, and a common place for gossip. At five in the evening a familiar face returned to the bar—Adrian Tepes. Adrian had recently returned to Romania from Russia; and—as something of a local celebrity—Adrian was asked about his journey to 'the land of the Russ,' while he drank a glass of wine.

"So, Adrian," began Vasile Roman—the owner, "what's Russia like?"

Adrian chuckled. "That's not an easy question to answer, Vasile. The Russian Empire spans three continents. It's widely diverse in terms of race and religion." Adrian sipped his wine. "I only saw a tiny fraction of Russia."

"You were in Moscow, right?" asked one patron.

Adrian nodded. "Yes, and St. Petersburg."

"What can you say about Moscow?" asked another patron.

Adrian took another sip, and rapped his fingers. "A fascinating place. A city within the walls of a fortress."

"Did you see St. Basil's Cathedral?"

"I did indeed! An absolutely beautiful, beautiful, church! Its exterior is a multi-color of red, green, and white." Adrian took a final sip and gestured. "Let me put it this way. The Catholics talk about how beautiful St. Peter's Basilica is. Well, St. Peter's Basilica has nothing on St. Basil's Cathedral."

"Hear! Hear!" the Orthodox patrons said.

"Would you like some more wine?" asked Vasile.

Adrian smiled. "Certainly."

After Vasile handed Adrian his glass, he asked, "How would you describe St. Petersburg then?"

Adrian took a sip, and rapped his fingers. "It's a lot different than Moscow. St. Petersburg is more of a Western European city, with structures built in the style of Italy and France."

"Did you see the tsar while you were over there?" asked a patron.

Adrian chuckled. "Yes, the tsar saw me—along with my 1500 friends."

The patrons laughed.

"But," continued Adrian, "from what I understand, the tsar appears to be a good man."

"Maybe he'll give us our independence then," Vasile said, while he wiped spilled drinks from his bar.

Adrian laughed. "I seriously doubt that. But from what I understand, he does come across someone who could do that."

"What makes you think so?" asked a patron.

"He's pretty liberal minded. But even still, I doubt he'd surrender Romanian revenue."

Another patron gulped a beer. "Was there anything you did in Russia?"

Adrian took a sip. "Yes, I went shopping."

The patrons laughed.

"You? Shopping?!" Vasile began. "You sneak in here every time your wife goes shopping."

Adrian nodded. "That or I take my boys to the park."

"By the way, how old are those boys?"

"Lysander's four, and Alcander's two. Anyway, I went shopping—but unlike my wife, I didn't go up and down every isle in the store, or look at every item on the shelf. I just bought what I wanted and went home."

"What did you buy?"

"Some souvenirs: a dress for Maria, Russian colonel uniforms for the boys, some toy bears that represent the emperor, and some clothes for me." Adrian sipped his glass. "When I come home, I asked Maria to wear that dress—I hope I bought the right size, and I asked her to dress the boys in their colonel uniforms."

Everyone took a drink, until someone could think of a new topic.

"Well," began one patron, "since you've been gone for a while, you probably haven't heard about the case with Wadim Carol."

"No," Adrian began, while he finished his glass, "I haven't."

"Would you like another glass?" Vasile asked, while he pointed to Adrian's glass.

Adrian looked at the glass, and rapped his fingers. Another glass of wine would make him tipsy, but he would probably walk it off on his way home—and he wanted to hear the news on Wadim Carol. Adrian nodded. "One more."

Vasile served him.

Adrian took a sip. "What about him?"

"He's scheduled to be executed."

The word 'executed' surprised Adrian. "Really?"

The Wadim Carol that was now the subject of discussion at Vasile's Inn had grown up in the village. But unlike most of the men in Warakiya, Wadim was educated—and was particularly fond of Voltaire. In his mid-twenties, Wadim turned to revolution. Wadim's revolutionary ideas found some sympathy in Warakiya, but his rejection of the Christian faith did not. Not only did Wadim openly reject Christianity, some believed—even though it could not be proven—that he practiced sorcery.

The patron nodded. "Yes, he was found guilty of committing treason against the tsar."

"Really?"

Again, the patron nodded. "Apparently he said that what would be best for Romania was if Tsar Alexander was found hanging by a tree."

Adrian cringed. "Well, that's a good way to get yourself killed," he said, before taking another sip.

"He'll rot in Hell!" one patron said. "You reject Christ, and that's what happens to you!"

"Now wait a minute," Vasile began, while he gestured for the patron to relax, "you don't know that for certain. God will take anyone who calls upon Him."

"That's if he calls to Him," added the patron.

Vasile did not want a religious argument to take place in his bar, so he tried to change the subject a little bit. "Speaking of which, I understand that Father Belmont spoke with Wadim today."

"Really?" Adrian said.

Vasile nodded. "Yes, as a confessor."

"He'd better confess," the same patron added.

Adrian could tell where this discussion was going, and was happy to be on his final sip of wine. "Well, I guess I'll hear all about this from Richter. Take care," Adrian said, while he gestured goodbye, "I'll see all of you later."

* * *

Although it was approaching Easter, the Carpathian air was still chilly. But the master room, kitchen, and dining room of the Tepes household were bright and cheery—with embers cracking in the fireplace.

"I'm home," Adrian said, while he closed the front door.

"We're in the master room," Maria replied. "Sander, Cander, stand here for Daddy."

Adrian smiled, as he removed his coat.

When Adrian entered the master room, he discovered his wife standing over his two sons. Adrian smiled—the lavender dress fit perfectly on Maria. But it was not that Adrian had bought a proper dress alone that made him smile. Maria's dress illuminated her breasts, and strands of Maria's blonde hair that fell along her breasts only added to her beauty. _"Those pretty duckies."_

But while Adrian admired his wife's breasts, he also admired his children. Lysander and Alcander was an attractive pair in their red uniforms—two small colonels of the Russian Army. The four-year-old and two-year-old smiled at their father, and their smiles increased, when Maria ran her well-manicured fingers through their blonde hair. But while Alcander smiled, he placed his thumb in his mouth.

Adrian smiled, and shook his head. "Cander, I don't think colonels in the Russian Army suck on their thumbs."

Alcander grinned around his thumb.

And Maria giggled. "I'm pretty sure they probably don't wear diapers either." Maria kissed Alcander's cheek, and added one for Lysander.

The boys giggled, but left their parents for their toys.

Adrian slipped his hands into Maria's. "You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress."

Maria blushed. "Thank you."

Adrian placed his nose against Maria, and kissed her. But after a quick kiss, Adrian made an even quicker kiss to Maria's breasts.

Maria giggled, and ran her fingers through Adrian's blonde hair.


	2. Knowing One

**Author's Note:** Hello, again. I want to inform everybody that I checked out the stats on chapter one, and I'm happy that twenty-one people took time out of their schedule to read it—although, I would like to see some reviews on it. This chapter is about the same length as chapter one, and it centers on an event that took place about the time Adrian returned to Romania between Wadim (pronounced "Va-deem") and Richter Belmont. As always, please read and give critical reviews.

_Here in a church,  
a small boy is kneeling.  
He prays to a God.  
He does not know.  
He cannot feel.  
All of his sins of childhood,  
he will remember.  
He will not cry.  
Tears he will not cry.  
Man of sorrows,  
I won't see your face.  
Man of sorrows,  
you left without a trace.  
This small boy wonders,  
what was it all about?  
Is your journey over?  
Has it just begun?_—

"Man of Sorrows"—Bruce Dickinson

**Lost Story**

**Chapter II**

While Adrian returned to Wallachia, his brother-in-law climbed the steps of a prison. Richter Belmont was dressed in a manner that would be found among many Orthodox priests. Richter wore a gray cassock, a Byzantine crucifix around his neck, and in his hands were a Latin crucifix and a Bible. A guard allowed Richter to enter a particular cell.

Inside the cell was a moderately tall man in his middle twenties, sitting at a table. The man was unshaven, with blonde hair and blue eyes. When he noticed Richter, he placed a pen back in its holder, and some writings under a book.

"Hello, Master Carol," Richter said, with a smile.

The young man returned the smile. "Hello, Father." Wadim gestured to a chair. "Please, have a seat."

Richter maintained his smile. _"I'm amazed. I didn't think he would be this friendly…_I noticed that you were writing something, when I came in."

Wadim nodded. "Yes, that's correct."

"What were you writing?"

"My beliefs."

"May I see?"

Wadim shook his head. "I haven't finished it yet, but I'm sure you'll read it tomorrow. Still, I have a piece of work that I've already finished. I'll give you a copy of it, before you go…I know, of course, why you're here."

"You do?"

Wadim nodded. "I'm to be sent to the gallows tomorrow, and I've been excommunicated by the Church."

"Well, God is always ready to welcome anyone back, if they call on Him."

"And what if I don't want to be welcomed back?"

"Huh?"

Wadim gestured. "What if I don't want to be welcomed back?"

"Then you'll go to Hell."

Wadim chuckled. "How do you know that we're not in Hell already?"

"Huh?"

Wadim continued to chuckle. "You've never met anyone like me before, have you, Father?"

Richter paused, before he nodded. "Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Vlad the Impaler."

Wadim laughed, and slapped the table.

Richter shot him a look. "You find humor in that?"

Wadim did not answer Richter's question. Instead, he asked, "Was Vlad the Impaler trained in theology?"

"Huh?"

"It's a simple question. Was Vlad the Impaler trained in theology?"

"I-I really don't know. I'm sure that he had some…"

"Well, I am, Father. Do you remember a man named Father Miceadu?"

"Yes, he was my brother and sister-in-law's pastor."

Wadim nodded. "Well, he was also my teacher. I learned theology from his knee. Now let me ask you a question, Father. Is God fair?"

Richter squinted. "Huh?"

"It's a simple question, Father. Is God fair?"

"Well, yes, I believe that God is fair…"

"Why so?"

"…He's always been good in my life."

Wadim turned away and nodded. "Do children die, Father?" Wadim asked, before he turned back.

"Huh?"

"Do children die?"

"W-well, yes…"

"Is that fair?"

"Well, it's God's will…"

"And that's fair?"

"Well, I don't think it's fair, but it's simply God's…"

"Ah ha!" interjected Wadim, while he slapped the table.

Richter shot him a look. "What are you 'ah ha'ing about?"

Wadim chuckled. "You're not very bright, are you?"

Richter glared.

"You just contradicted yourself."

Richter gasped.

And Wadim continued to chuckle. "You just said, you don't think it's fair."

Richter regained his composure. "I know what I said, but you're taking my words out of context."

"Then what did you mean?" Wadim asked smugly.

"I meant that it's never fair, when an innocent person dies. But you can't blame God for every bad thing that happens."

"Then who can you blame?"

"No one."

"Why not?"

"Because that's jut the way the world is."

"And who governs the world?"

"…Well, ultimately God governs the world…"

"So God did allow this to happen?"

Richter sighed. "Yes, God allowed it to happen, but He had His reasons."

"And what were His reasons?"

"…I don't know what His reasons are. No one knows what His reasons are. All we can do is trust in God's mercy."

Wadim scoffed. "It doesn't seem that God was very merciful to the child's parents."

"God has His reasons for why He does what He does."

"And those reasons are what now?"

Richter stood, turned around, shook and clenched his fists.

Wadim grinned.

Richter calmly turned back, and Wadim removed his grin. "I don't know. Perhaps the child was born with an illness. Perhaps the child would be unable to survive this world…"

"Do these questions make you mad, Father?"

Richter gestured. "No, no."

Wadim chuckled. "I think they do. I watched your body shake."

Richter sighed. "Look, I came here to offer God's forgiveness to you."

"Forgiveness for what?"

"Your sins!"

Wadim laughed. "My sins? My sins against what?"

"Your sins against God and His Church!"

Wadim continued to laugh. "My sins against God and His Church? And what sins are those?"

Richter was flabbergasted. "Everything that you've said so far!"

Wadim placed his chin between his thumb and first finger, and turned his eyes away—like he was the statue of 'The Thinker.' "Those are sins?" Wadim turned back. "I was just using my brain." Wadim gestured. "You know what? I have an idea. Why don't I just save the executioner the trouble, take a gun, and execute myself?"

Richter threw his arms in the air. "Forget it! I give up!"

Wadim chuckled, and gestured for Richter to wait. Wadim presented Richter with some papers. "Here are some of my writings. Maybe you'll understand me better, after you read them."

Richter took the papers, and walked away from Wadim. He knocked on the door, and a guard opened it. But before he left, Richter turned back to Wadim. "I'm going to pray for you, before the Blessed Sacrament. I pray that God will touch your heart."

"Good. Maybe you should ask God to answer my questions, since obviously you can't."

Richter sighed, shook his head, and crossed himself before he left the cell.


	3. Hallowed Be Thy Name

**Author's Note:** Greetings everyone! Before I begin this chapter I want to thank a long time reader for emailing me, and giving me some advice. My only advice right now is to keep reading and provide some critical reviews, if you have the time.

_I'm waiting in my cold cell,  
when the bell begins to chime.  
Reflecting on my past life,  
and it doesn't have much time.  
'Cause at five o'clock,  
they take me to the gallows pole.  
The sands of time for me are running low_—

"Hallowed Be Thy Name"—Iron Maiden

**Lost Story**

**Chapter III**

The following afternoon, Adrian returned home, after a visit with Richter. In his hand were a series of writings that belonged to Wadim. As was his custom, Adrian prepared to read the works in his study. But when he entered, Adrian noticed that the green carpet had sunk under the knees of Lysander and Alcander, who played beneath the portrait of Lisa Tepes—whose eyes looked down on the children—that Adrian had taken during one of his last missions from Castle Dracula.

"Double, double, toil and trouble," Adrian said, with a smile. He often liked to refer to his sons, with this passage from Shakespeare's Macbeth.

The boys ceased to play with their blocks, and with a smile, turned to their father.

"Hewwo, Daddy," Alcander said.

Adrian maintained his smile. "Hello, Cander, Sander, have you been good boys today?"

"Yeah!" Sander replied, with a nod.

Adrian returned the nod and continued to smile. "That's good."

"Daddy?" continued Lysander.

"Yes, Sander?"

"Will you read that story about The Man of Stone again?"

"I'd be more than happy to read the story about The Man of Stone again, but right now I have to read this." Adrian showed his sons the writings.

"What's that?" asked Alcander, while he pointed.

"That, Cander, are some writings that I received from your Uncle Richter earlier today. They're extremely boring—not as fun as, The Man of Stone—but Daddy has to read them anyway."

"What're they about?" asked Lysander.

"Someone else's thoughts." Adrian placed the writings on an unoccupied portion of his desk. Adrian's desk was loaded enough with the works of Shakespeare and a book on the United States of America—that was forbidden by the Russian Government. After placing the works on his desk, he scooped up his sons, and sat in his desk chair. "Tell you what. Give Daddy an hour, and then he'll read you The Man of Stone."

"An howr?" responded Alcander.

"How long's an hour?" asked Lysander.

Adrian returned his sons to the floor. "That's about as long as you two playing with Mommy and your toys. So run along and do that. Then I'll be ready to read to you."

Alcander happily toddled out of the study, either to find Maria or some more toys.

Lysander prepared to follow his younger brother, but his father stopped him.

"Lysander?"

"Yes?"

"Take your brother to Mommy, and tell her that he needs changing."

"All right," Lysander said, and as he left the room, he called to his younger brother.

* * *

With his children out of the room, Adrian turned to the works of Wadim. Adrian discovered that Wadim was a very proficient writer, which made him declare that Wadim was worthy of his birth name, 'wise one' or 'knowing one.' But as Adrian continued to read Wadim's works, there were times that he would stop, and look at the portrait of his mother. 

Adrian finished one of Wadim's works, and prepared to start on another, until a smooth arm found its way around Adrian's neck. The arm's owner, Maria, kissed her husband's cheek.

"Any trouble with Cander?" Adrian asked.

"No more than usual," Maria replied, while she took her other arm and ran her fingers through Adrian's hair. "He's a pretty good boy, when I change his diapers."

Adrian patted his wife's hand. "Where is double, double, toil and trouble right now?"

"In Sander's room—Cander wanted to join his older brother on the rocking horse, after I finished changing him."

Adrian nodded, while he wrapped an arm around Maria, and pulled her close. Adrian patted her rear, and reminisced about the joy he had last night with Maria, after their children went to bed.

Maria smiled—thinking of that same joy, and prepared to sit on Adrian's lap, but the works on Adrian's desk caught her eye. "What's this?" she asked, while she grabbed one of the pages.

"Richter gave me those a little over an hour ago. They're Wadim Carol's writings. He gave them to Richter yesterday. You know that he was executed today?"

Maria sighed and nodded. "Yes, I know…Did he make a good confession with Richter?"

Adrian shook his head. "Richter said a confession never had the chance to take place. And he was shocked, because he thought people would be trying to reconcile themselves to God, if they knew the hour of their death drew near."

"Wadim didn't confess?"

Again, Adrian shook his head. "No, Richter said he was defiant until the end. The only thing he requested was a razor and some lather to shave himself."

Maria sadly nodded. "I see."

"I haven't talked about this much with you, but you knew him, didn't you?"

Again, Maria nodded. "Yes, we were around the same age."

Adrian motioned Maria to sit in his lap. "What kind of person was he?"

Maria placed her chin between her thumb and first finger, and with her free hand rapped her fingers on Adrian's desk. "When we were teenagers, we were learning theology under Father Miceadu. I can remember that Wadim asked many questions, and when asked a question he was one of the first to answer. But at the same time, I think he was rather shy. I remember smiling at him in class, because he was rather handsome, and I can remember that he gave me a shy smile back. But one thing I could tell about him was that, I think he saw the world in black and white."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think that Wadim saw the world as a place where if you follow the teachings of the Church, God will reward you; and if you don't, God will punish you."

Adrian nodded. "I kind of sensed that in his writings. In one of them, he talks about Voltaire…"

"Yes, I heard that Wadim became interested in Voltaire's writings, when he visited Paris a few years ago." Maria readjusted herself on Adrian's lap. "That's also about the time, when I saw changes in him."

Adrian nodded. "Yes, well, anyway, he mentions Voltaire. And while he said Voltaire was right on some ideas, he was no theologian."

"What I don't understand is, why was he comparing theology from someone who was raised a Catholic?"

"Catholicism and Orthodoxy are not much different, Maria."

"They're different enough."

Adrian pulled his wife closer. "Anyway, throughout this document, Wadim asks questions that many people don't want to answer. Such as, 'Why do the innocent suffer?' Richter told me, he kept asking him yesterday, if it was fair when children die. Basically, the standard answer of 'that's just the way the world is,' or 'this is God's will' no longer satisfied him…I have to confess that while I read Wadim's works, I stopped to look at my mother."

"How come?"

"Because she died without committing a crime, so I can understand Wadim—but because of my mother, I can't follow the same path as him."

"Because of your mother?"

Adrian nodded. "My mother taught me never to hate people—there are good and bad ones in this world. My mother also taught me the traditional Christian teaching about how God became man. Therefore, unlike my father, I could never hate God."

Maria nodded, while she ran her fingers along Adrian's thigh. "What does Wadim say about God?"

"He's not sure what do think about Him. He believes that God exists, that's for certain, but I don't think he views Him as just. In some ways, I think that Wadim believes he has been betrayed by everything he was taught about God."

"What does Wadim say about Jesus?"

"He mentions Him here and there. I don't think he has any problem calling Jesus, God's Son or God, but I think he just doesn't understand how someone could follow Christ's teachings and not be rewarded. One theme that appears over and over again in this document is that those who follow Christ appear to get shitted on, over those who don't. To him, God should be more just. The traditional Christian answers simply no longer work for him."

"…Now that I think about it, I wonder if he didn't have feelings like this, when I last saw him."

"When was that?"

"Sometime after Lysander was born. I was carrying Sander, and I saw him one day. I went over and said hello to him. He said hello back to me, but he seemed as though he didn't want to talk too much. I can remember him looking down at Sander, with this look." Maria gestured to her eyes. "I can't describe it, but it was this look of pain. And then Wadim asked me who he was. And when I told him he was my son, and asked if he was cute, Wadim just gave me a general nod and said, 'yeah.' It was a far cry from how I saw him, a little over a year before that. I met him not too longer after I had received my annulment on my marriage to Michael. Wadim chatted with me, and he seemed happy." Maria giggled. "He even tried to flirt with me, even though he wasn't very good."

A moment after Maria finished her sentence, the youngest members of the Tepes family entered the study.

"Daddy," Lysander began, "is it an hour yet?"

Adrian smiled. "I believe that it is." Adrian motioned Maria off his lap. "You'll have to excuse me, I have a reading appointment to keep with my boys."

Maria smiled. "Of course!" Maria maintained her smile, and gave her husband a quick kiss. Then she individually lifted her sons, kissed them, and placed them on Adrian's lap.


	4. Preparing for Holy Week

_Hail, O Christ,  
welcome risen Lord.  
By your death and rising,  
you have life restored_—

(Traditional Holy Saturday hymn)

**Lost Story**

**Chapter IV**

Although, The Man of Stone is not intended to take an hour to read, that is how long Adrian read the story—due to Lysander and Alcander interjecting questions into the text. Once the story was finished, Adrian placed the book on his desk, carried his sons to the master room, placed them with their toys, kissed his wife, grabbed his coat, and journeyed to Vasile's.

* * *

Adrian entered Vasile's before its early evening crowd. The bar was empty, with the exception of Vasile sitting at the edge of the bar, smoking a pipe. The late afternoon sun shined on Vasile's baldhead and on the glass case that contained a portrait of Simon Belmont.

"Adrian," Vasile began—while he blew a smoke ring, "you're here earlier than usual."

"Well," Adrian began—while he removed his coat, "I finished reading my boys the story of The Man of Stone…"

"Now that's a great story! My children loved that story, when they were little."

Adrian nodded. "Well, yes, it is a great story, but the story took me an hour to read—due to Lysander and Alcander stopping me to ask questions." Adrian smiled. "Inquisitive little boys, they are."

Adrian placed his coat behind his favorite bar stool that was located near a large crucifix.

"Wine, as usual?" Vasile asked, while he wiped the area where Adrian would be sitting.

Adrian smiled. "Of course."

"I didn't see you this morning," Vasile began, while he poured Adrian a glass. "Were you not at the execution?"

Adrian shook his head, and placed his hand on the glass. "No, the idea of an execution, as some form of entertainment, has always bothered me."

Vasile nodded. "I understand. By the way," Vasile continued—while he wiped the rest of his bar, "did you learn anything from Father Belmont yesterday?"

Adrian took a sip. "Well, no confession took place. Wadim was defiant…"

"He was defiant this morning as well."

"I take it Father Hans was there this morning?"

Vasile nodded. "Yes, and from what I can tell no confession was made."

Adrian returned the nod, and prepared to continue his tale, when the regular evening crowd arrived. But the entrance of the usual evening crowd did not detour Adrian from his story. Wadim was the topic of the day.

"Richter gave me some of Wadim's writings today," Adrian said, while he finished his glass. "I read one of them today."

"Did they say anything about Wadim engaging in witchcraft?" asked a bearded patron, who gulped his beer.

Adrian shook his head, while Vasile placed another glass before him. "No, what I've seen so far is basically Wadim's views of the world." Adrian took a sip. "They're quite interesting, I must say."

"What exactly are they?" asked a patron, while he lit his pipe.

"They are asking questions that many people don't ask."

"Like what?" asked Vasile.

"Like where was God, when the innocent suffer? Where was God, when a child dies? What wrong did the child commit, for its life to be taken away? I must say that I've been…" Adrian stopped to take a sip, and gestured for his audience to wait. The reason why Adrian stopped was that he was about to say that he had been around for a long time, but realized that to the patrons he was a young man. "I must say that I've been to different places in this world. I've been to Russia, and I've been to Austria. And what I can say about Eastern Europe and Western Europe, Orthodox and Catholic, is that there is a common belief in God's will—or the statement, 'that's just the way the world is.' Wadim, however, challenged that worldview. Wadim wondered if God is just, then why are plagues inflicted on the innocent? Why are those, who are following the teachings of Christ, get shitted on—while those who do not, receive all the good graces of this world? To Wadim, the standard understanding of God as merciful and just no longer worked."

"Wadim never understood his faith," a clean-shaven man said at the edge of the bar, with a glass full of beer. The man's name was Edward, and he was in his early eighties. Edward was a life-long resident of Warakiya and was staunchly religious. But as Edward grew older, he also became more eccentric—and his eccentric nature came out in his religious beliefs. When Edward drank, he would begin to act out the gestures of the priest at mass; and he would often cross himself, and bless objects.

"Well, actually, Edward, Wadim was trained in theology by…"

"If Wadim had known his faith, he would have known that Christian people suffer. Look at the apostles—all but John was martyred. Look at St. John's disciple, St. Polycarp, the Bishop of Smyrna."

"Well, yes," gestured Adrian, I agree with you, but at the same time…"

"Those men never gave up hope in Jesus. It's like St. Polycarp said, Jesus had never let him down in the eighty years that he had followed Him."

Again, Adrian tried to interject. "Yes, I understand what you're saying, but at the same time, don't you think that…"

"And Jesus was with Polycarp!"

Adrian smiled, sighed, and placed his hand on his forehead. "Well, he died for Him…"

Edward clapped and smiled. "Exactly! And Jesus said that those who laid their life down for Him would be blessed. And now St. Polycarp prays with all the other saints in Heaven," Edward added, while he crossed himself. "But Wadim," Edward continued with a gesture, "rejected Christ. And when you reject Christ, you reject the grace of God." Edward folded his arms across his chest and shook—like he was cold. "And when you reject the grace of God the only place for you is Hell!" Edward crossed himself, and with his hands in prayer looked to the heavens. "St. Polycarp, please pray that we never lose our eyes on Jesus. Always pray with us and for us to Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen."

And as Edward crossed himself for the second time, Adrian smirked. "Well, on that cheerful note," Adrian began—while he took a final sip, "I need to depart."

"Take care, Adrian," Vasile began. "Just to remind you, I'll be closed for Holy Week, and will reopen on Easter Monday."

"God loves you!" Edward added, while he blessed Adrian—as though he was a priest.

Adrian smiled. "Thank you, Edward, and take care all of you!" Adrian added, while he waved goodbye to the patrons.

* * *

For Easter of 1808, Adrian Tepes and his family journeyed to the Belmont Estate. Along with the Belmonts, the Tepeses were joined by Sebastian and Dymphna Renard—the parents of Maria and Annette. On Holy Saturday, Father Richter Belmont led the procession around his church, St. George. Those who followed the priest carried candles. Adrian, however, carried Alcander. Alcander smiled with his lit candle, while he was being carried around the church.

Finally, when the procession reached the entrance to the church, Richter declared, "Christ is risen!"

And those gathered responded, "Indeed! He is risen!"

All was grand at Easter. It was the end of another long season of Lent. But, at the same time, it was the calm before the storm.


	5. Stranger in us All

**Author's Note**: Greetings, everyone! Well, this chapter will be a little unique. It will the first time I have, in a long time, written a chapter that centers on Maria. Please read and give critical reviews.

_The full moon unmasks the stranger in us all.  
And the cruel world takes its toll.  
The shadow is cast on who you used to be.  
Let me set you free.  
Come now, come take my hand,  
then you'll understand.  
We'll go to that forbidden land,  
of our black masquerade.  
Let the darkness surround you.  
The game that we play is the black masquerade_—

"Black Masquerade"—Rainbow

**Lost Story**

**Chapter V**

Easter Monday was a busy day for Maria, as Easter Sunday had not quenched Adrian's desire for meat. That evening, Maria assisted her cook, Patrushka, in the kitchen—while she also kept an eye on her children. And after her children went to bed, Maria, herself, was tired. She tried to stay awake, but when she momentarily fell asleep in Adrian's lap, he suggested that she go to bed—and added that he would soon join her. Maria saw Adrian enter the master bedroom, while she was already in her nightgown; but before she closed her eyes, Maria felt her husband's kiss on her cheek.

* * *

"Maria! Maria!" a voice called.

"Huh?" responded Maria. The voice sounded familiar, but it was not her husband's. Maria opened her eyes, but when she did, she noticed that she was not in her bedroom. Instead, Maria found herself in the forest adjacent to her home. A few crickets chirped, while the moon and stars illuminated her. As she stood, a gust of wind came by. Although, it was warmer in the Carpathians during the day, it was still cold at night. Yet, Maria—dressed only in her nightgown—did not shiver.

"The hell's going on? Adrian?!"

"Maria," the voice called again. This time the voice had a face. It belonged to a clean-shaven blonde man, dressed in black—with a long overcoat.

"…Wadim?!"

The man nodded and walked forward with a smile. "How are you, Maria? It's been a long time, since we last saw each other. How long has it been? Four years, I think."

"Wadim?!"

"Yes?" Wadim replied—his voice no longer that of the shy man that Maria knew as a teenager.

"What are you doing here? And what am I doing here?"

"I wanted to see you, so I brought you here."

"Brought me here?"

Wadim nodded. "Yes."

"But, Wadim…"

"Yes?"

"Aren't you…dead?"

Wadim chuckled. "Yeah, something like that."

"So you are alive?! You weren't executed?!"

Again, Wadim chuckled. "Oh, I was executed, but I'm very much alive—as you can see," Wadim added, while he extended his arms—exposing his dark shirt.

Maria smiled. Wadim was very much the handsome man that Maria remembered as a teenager. The only difference from that man, to this man before her, was that his confidence had increased.

Wadim returned the smile. "Maria?"

"Yes?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What question was that?"

"How are you?"

Maria chuckled. "I'm fine. Couldn't be better."

Wadim gave Maria a look. "Are you indeed?"

Maria was confused. "Huh?"

Wadim smiled. "You paused."

"Y-yes! I'm perfectly fine!"

Wadim turned and began to pace. Then he stopped, turned back, and gestured. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes!" Maria said, while she clenched her fist—she was becoming annoyed by Wadim's questions. "I'm a loving wife and mother!"

Wadim nodded, turned, and paced again. "I see." Then Wadim stopped, and turned back. "Then I guess you've forgotten about an incident that took place, when we were teenagers?"

"Huh?"

Wadim smiled. "Obviously, you have."

"The hell are you talking about?!"

"Do you remember your grandmother?" Wadim asked, not bothered by Maria's tone.

"…My grandmother?"

Wadim nodded. "Yes, your grandma, Katlin. She was your maternal grandmother, I believe?"

Maria paused, before she nodded. It had been a while since someone mentioned her grandmother's name. "Yes."

For the second time, Wadim nodded; and he began to pace. "I can remember that she was very pretty, despite how old she must have been. Beauty seems to be a trait in your family, Maria." Wadim stopped and smiled.

And Maria returned the smile.

"But not only was your grandma, Katlin, very pretty, she was also very religious; am I correct?"

"Yes."

Again, Wadim nodded. "I thought so. I can remember that when we used to attend class with Father Miceadu that your grandmother was always there, at the old Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows, lighting the candles and leading vespers."

"Yes, that's correct."

Wadim began to pace again. "But there was one day that I have never forgotten."

"What day was that?"

"I had arrived early for my lessons, and you had arrived as well. But you were crying…"

"Wadim, please don't."

Wadim ignored her. "You were crying to Miceadu. Your grandmother, that beautiful devout Christian woman, was taken away from you…"

"Stop it, Wadim!" Maria said. Wadim's words brought back old memories that Maria preferred not to remember.

Again, Wadim ignored her. "She was killed in a carriage accident. And you were crying to Father Miceadu. I can remember very clearly that you told him, with tears in your eyes, 'I don't understand why this happened. Why did God allow this to happen?'"

Maria lowered her head and sighed. Tears began to form in her eyes.

"And do you remember what Father Miceadu told you?"

"I don't care to remember," Maria said, wiping away a tear—and doing her best not to cry.

But Maria's words had no effect on Wadim. "Miceadu said that it was God's will, and that we must always trust in God's mercy." Wadim nodded, and looked to the heavens. "The standard Christian answer, I must say." Wadim stepped forward, and gently placed his hand on Maria's chin. While Wadim's hand was gentle, his nails were sharp.

Maria did not fight off Wadim, and looked at him with eyes that could almost cry.

Wadim gasped. "You have most beautiful eyes. Those beautiful green eyes!"

But Maria glared, while she removed her chin from Wadim's hand. "Why did you bring that up?"

"To ask you a question."

Maria's look remained the same. "I'm sick and tired of your damn questions!"

Wadim nodded, and began to pace again. "Don't worry, this will be the last one."

Maria nodded with a glare.

"Was God merciful to your grandma, Katlin? He took her life—a woman, who asked for His mercy every day—and He allowed a drunk at Vasile's, who cheats on his wife and has sex with prostitutes, to live." Wadim ceased pacing, and looked Maria directly in the eye. "Was that merciful?"

"…I don't know."

"Of course you do! You're a smart woman! Your grandmother never had the chance to see Lysander—and don't you have a second baby?"

"I don't know if Grandma ever would have lived to see either Sander or…"

"Now you're rationalizing, when the answer's so obvious."

"But isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"Huh?"

Maria smirked. "You're not as bright as you thought you were."

Wadim glared.

"God gave me a brain, and I intend to use it. What happened to Grandma wasn't fair, but it could have been a lot worse. Grandma could have suffered for days, and God was merciful not to let that happen."

Wadim sighed, lowered his head, and shook it. "You're too poisoned by this system." Wadim looked back at Maria. "Let me liberate you. I want to help you, because I love you."

Maria was stunned.

But Wadim nodded. "Yes, and I know that you feel the same way about me. I can still remember you looking at me in class—that beautiful smile." Wadim gently wrapped his fingers around strands of Maria's hair. "Such beautiful golden hair…"

Maria slapped Wadim's hand away.

And Wadim was stunned.

"You're a fool."

Wadim's gesture was the same.

"I'll admit that there were times, when I was younger, that I used to stay up and think about you. I'd think about how I couldn't wait to see the shy-handsome man in class. But that was 'teenage love,' and I'm glad that it was just a phase. From talking with you, I can see just what kind of person you are. You're a child, in that you hold on to childhood fantasies. But at the same time, you're a manipulator. You manipulate people's hearts. That alone could make me never love you. Liberate me, you say? Liberate me from what?! Nothing oppresses me. I'm a loving wife and mother of two beautiful little boys. If I were to follow you, I wouldn't be liberated. I would just find myself oppressed."

"…So," Wadim began to choke up, "Are you saying that you truly don't care for me at all?"

Maria shook her head. "You and I were never truly meant to be together, Wadim."

"Oh, Maria," Wadim said, with a groan—while he turned away. With his back turned, Wadim clenched his fists and shook—then he quickly turned back. Wadim's eyes blue eyes turned to blood, and his face became a wild animal—with the teeth of a wolf.

* * *

Maria gasped. Her palms and forehead were sweaty. But she was in a familiar place—her bedroom. At her side was Adrian, who was unaffected that his wife woke up in a cold sweat.

"A dream?" Maria murmured. Maria gasped. _"My boys?!"_

Maria left the master bedroom, and entered Alcander's nursery and Lysander's room. The boys slept peacefully, clutching their stuffed bears—while the moon illuminated their faces. Maria smiled.

And Maria maintained her smile, while she returned to the master bedroom. Maria ran her fingers through Adrian's hair and whispered, "A dream."


	6. Haunted

**Author's Note**: Hey, everyone! Sorry it took me a while to get this update, but I wanted to wait until my friend, Kitty—or Chameleon—edited it. I am thankful for her suggestions, especially with Natalia—which is a character that is distinctly hers. As always, please continue to read and review.

_I'm haunted,  
haunted.  
Is that what you wanted?  
All that's left,  
is the ghost of your smile.  
It stays a while,  
then fades away_—

"Haunted"—Deep Purple

**Lost Story**

**Chapter VI**

The next morning, Maria put her dream—or nightmare—behind her. At breakfast, she placed Alcander in his highchair, and took her spot next to Adrian.

"So," Adrian began—while he used his fork to cut his pancakes, "what are your plans for the day?"

The sun illuminated Maria's hair, while she cut Alcander's pancake. "I'm going to Natalia's with the boys."

Adrian smirked. "Oh?" And then he chuckled. "That should be fun."

Maria gave him a look. "What is it that you don't like about her?"

Adrian gestured for her to wait, while he ate some pancakes. "It's not that I don't like her. I'm forever grateful, for her accompanying you years ago. But, at the same time, an experience at Castle Dracula would humble most people, but not her. The way I see it, Natalia would see herself above the people at Vasile's. Granted, in terms of social status, she is. But those people are the bread and butter of society. Have you ever sowed a field on a hot summer day? I haven't. But the people that go to Vasile's do, and those people help provide the grain in the foods that we eat. Natalia, I don't think, understands that."

Maria bit some pancakes. "I think she does, but I think she comes off the wrong way."

"If that's the case, I hope that her daughter doesn't come off that way."

* * *

Lysander ran in front of his mother, who carried his younger brother—while the birds sang, along their way to the Sotinsk residence. Natalia Sotinsk came from an old Warakiya family that was almost as old as the Belmonts. In fact, through her mother, Natalia had Belmont blood. But perhaps the true age of the Sotinsk family could be reflected in their home. Natalia Sotinsk resided in a white, two storied, manor house—that was built in the late seventeenth-century. Around Natalia's home were lush gardens. But those gardens were currently silent, due to the long winter.

Maria knocked on the door, while Lysander played on a column.

Maria's rap was answered by Andrew, the Sotinsk's sixty-year-old servant. "Mistress Tepes?"

"Hewwo," interjected Alcander, through his pacifier.

Maria chuckled at the response from her youngest, but said to Andrew, "It's good to see you again, Andrew. I came to see Natalia. Could you tell her that I've arrived?"

"Well…well, I can, but I don't know if you want to see Mistress Sotinsk today."

"Really? Why's that?"

"She's not feeling well. She asked that her daughter, Linda, to be sent to her father's place. The reason why I'm saying this is that I don't think you want Lysander or Alcander to catch whatever it is that she has."

Maria nodded. "I understand, Andrew. By the way, do you think it would be all right if I came by tomorrow, without the children, and saw Natalia?"

"I don't think that would be a problem."

Maria smiled, while she grasped Lysander's hand. "Thank you."

* * *

The following day, Easter Wednesday, did not have the charms of the previous day. The birds did not sing, and a cold rain descended on the earth. As she did the day before, Maria approached the Sotinsk residence, but this time without her children—Maria left her children with her parents.

Andrew directed Maria to Natalia's chamber; but on this day, Maria found the Sotinsk residence to be dreadful. Curtains covered the windows, which prevented the little light of the sun from entering—and the shadows that loomed from the portraits of famous Sotinsk's only added to the feel of dread. When Andrew reached Natalia's chamber, the servant rapped on the door.

"Yes?" a tired voice said.

"Mistress Sotinsk, Mistress Tepes is here to see you."

"…Show her in."

Before Andrew allowed Maria to enter, he lit a candle, and handed it to her. "Here, you will need this."

"Why? It's not nighttime yet."

"I know that, but Mistress Sotinsk is keeping her room dark right now."

Maria did not understand, but she entered anyway.

But once Maria entered, she understood Andrew's words. If the Sotinsk house was dreadful, the Sotinsk master room was a funeral parlor. Curtains allowed little light to enter. On the bed, in her nightgown, rested Natalia. Maria was only able to make out her shadow, until she brought the candle to her bedside, and placed it in a holder. Natalia was about twelve years older than Maria—and had become something of a big sister to her—but Natalia did not appear like the charming girl that Maria had known at parties. She looked pale and thin. Still, when Natalia noticed Maria, she smiled.

"Maria!" she said, while maintaining her smile. "You look absolutely radiant!"

Maria returned the smile. "Thank you, Natalia. I came by to see you yesterday, but Andrew told me that you weren't feeling well, and that it wouldn't be a good idea for me to visit you—since I had the boys with me."

"Are those boys still attracting the attention of the girls?"

Maria giggled. "Always!"

"Alcander's just like you, you know?"

Maria chuckled. "People say that just because he inherited my eyes. I think he's just like his father, when he gets mad."

Natalia chuckled. "No, it's Sander that's just like his father."

Maria smiled.

And Natalia returned the smile.

But Maria turned the conversation into a serious one. "Natalia?"

"Yes?"

"What's wrong with you?"

Natalia chuckled. "Well, I don't think it's anything life threatening—unlike what Andrew made it out to be to you yesterday. I was either stung or bitten by a spider in the garden. I'm not sure which; and it really wouldn't matter, except that whatever it was bit me in the neck—and it swelled up just a bit."

Maria smiled. "Thank God it wasn't a vampire."

Natalia returned the smile. "Definitely! …But you know, as I say that, it makes me think of something."

"What's that?"

"Do you remember, Wadim—the man, who was recently executed?"

Maria's eyes grew wide. However, she was not going to tell Natalia about her dream.

"Why did you look at me like that?"

"Oh," Maria said—trying to regain her composure. "Sorry, it was nothing. I guess hearing Wadim's name shocked me. Yes, I remember him. We had religious education together."

Natalia nodded. "Last night, and the night before, I had a dream about him."

_"Now this is queer!"_

"You know that I met him once?"

"You did?"

Natalia nodded. "Years ago I threw a party for some of the prominent young men in Warakiya. Wadim was present, because he was considered to be an exceptional student—and, therefore, was invited. He was gorgeous! Those adorable blue eyes! I went over and spoke with him…"

"You mean you flirted with him, don't you?" Maria said with a smile. It was no secret among some of the well-known Warakiya families that Natalia would try to lead any young man to her bedchamber, if it was possible.

Natalia returned the smile. "All right, yes, I flirted with him. But he was rather shy to my advances. It may have been due to the fact that he was an exceptional student in religion.

"When I saw him in the dream, there was something different about him. He was a little older, yet still handsome, but his shyness was gone. I can remember that he approached me, and his blue eyes shined like orbs. Just the look in his eyes made me think I was in paradise…And then I touched him…on the genitals."

Maria was shocked. She knew Natalia was a flirt, but she never expected her to be that explicit.

"He moaned, when I did that, and then he kissed me."

"Did…did he ever say anything to you?"

Natalia weakly shook her head. "No, he merely nibbled on my neck." Natalia placed a hand on her throat that was covered with a shawl and smiled. "I must admit, it felt really good!"

But Maria did not smile at Natalia's statement. Instead, Maria's eyes grew wide, as she recalled her encounter with Wadim—especially the ending. Maria began to pace, but then she stopped, and turned to Natalia. "Natalia?"

"Yes?"

"This is going to seem very queer, but a couple of nights ago, I had a dream about Wadim."

Natalia's eyes grew wide. "Really?"

Maria nodded. "I had a dream that I saw him in the forest, and he told me that he loved me. I told him that I wasn't interested; and after I said that, his face changed to that of a wild animal."

"You're not thinking he's back from the dead, are you?"

"…I don't know."

Natalia chuckled. "Trust me, I wasn't bitten by a vampire. After my experience with Prince Tepes, I'm well aware of what a vampire bite would look like. Plus, the wounds on my neck are too swollen to be a vampire bite."

Maria nodded, but was confused by Natalia wearing a shawl. "Natalia?"

"Yes?"

"Why exactly are you wearing a shawl in bed?"

"It's medicine. The doctor put it around my throat, because he said it would be easier to keep the medicine on my wound, and breathe into my lungs."

Maria nodded. "I see." She sighed. "Well, I suppose I should go, and gather up my boys. Take care of yourself, Natalia."

"Same with you, Maria."

"And Natalia?"

"Yes, Maria?"

"If you have any more dreams about Wadim, I think it would be better if you ran away from him."

Natalia laughed. "Oh, now, Maria, don't be so paranoid! But I promise that if I see him again, I'll run away…Although, I do wonder what he would have been like in bed? He was a damn good kisser!"

Maria gave a weak smile, took the candle, and left the room.

Outside the master bedroom, Maria returned the candle to its original holder, and confronted Andrew—the servant.

"And how did your meeting go with Mistress Sotinsk, Mistress Tepes?"

"It was fine. I certainly hope that Natalia starts to feel better."

Andrew nodded. "I hope so too. I hope that those marks on her throat have gotten better."

"I didn't see them, but she says that they're really swollen."

Andrew nodded. "Yes, indeed—that is apparently where she was stung or bitten. Ironically, she was feeling better sometime after you left—she even went for another late-night walk in the garden, but this morning she was ill again. I pray that she wasn't stung or bitten twice!"

Maria turned to the floor, and then turned back to Andrew. "She wasn't with anyone, was she?"

Andrew was confused. "Why, no, she was only dressed in her nightgown."

Maria shot Andrew a look.

Andrew chuckled. "Okay, I get what you meant! But no, she wasn't with anyone."

Maria nodded, but her brain thought of Wadim. _"Could he really have returned beyond the grave?_ …Thank you, Andrew. I think I'll come by, and visit her tomorrow."

* * *

As Maria left the Sotinsk residence, her face was one of concentration. She did not fall on her knees, but in her mind Maria was praying to God—and asking for the intercession of St. Michael the Archangel and St. George—to protect Natalia.

* * *

With Lysander charging in front of her, and Alcander in her arms, Maria encountered Adrian preparing to leave their villa.

"Daddy!" Lysander said, while he continued to charge.

Adrian chuckled, scooped up his firstborn, tickled him, and returned him to the ground.

"Daddy!" added Alcander.

Adrian smiled. "There's a big boy!" he added, while he tickled Alcander's pudgy belly.

Maria placed her squealing son to the ground, and motioned him to follow his older brother. "Sander, take your little brother inside, and keep an eye on him. I need to talk to your father."

"Talk to me about what?" Adrian said.

"It's about a dream I had a couple of nights ago."

"Oh?" Adrian said, while he brushed his coat.

"Well, actually it was more of a nightmare."

"I see. Well, it couldn't have bothered you too much, if you're not just talking about it."

"It didn't, until I saw Natalia."

"What about her?"

"We had a dream about the same person."

"Who was that?"

"Wadim."

Adrian was not concerned whom Natalia dreamed about, but hearing that Maria dreamed about another man did make him frown. "I see."

"Don't look at me like that, Adrian! It's not like I had a dream about sleeping with him."

"Adding to the fact that he's dead, but please go on."

Maria sighed. _"I hate when he gets so damn jealous...!_ Anyway, at the end of the dream, Wadim's face morphed into monster. And when he appeared to Natalia, for reasons that I can't understand…"

"Neither can I."

"He nibbled on her neck. At least, that's what Natalia told me. Natalia dreamed about seeing Wadim twice; and each time she woke up, she was ill. When I take in my dream about him, Natalia's dreams about him, and the rumor that he might have engaged in sorcery, do you think that it's possible Wadim could have risen from the dead?"

"I take it that you mean as a vampire, correct?"

Maria nodded. "Yes."

Adrian placed his chin between his thumb and first finger. "Obviously anything's possible, and there are some events in Wadim's life that relate to an old understanding of how a person can return from the dead as a vampire."

"And those are?"

"Wadim rejected God, and was excommunicated by the Church. There are old legends—not just in Romania, but throughout Europe—if one rejects God, and is excommunicated, that person can return from the dead as a vampire; but at the same time, those factors are not always true…Nevertheless, based on Natalia's experience at Castle Dracula, I would assume that she would recognize a vampire bite."

"Agreed, but Natalia told me that her wounds are swollen too much to be a vampire bite. She believes she was either stung, or bitten by a spider. Still, based on her dream and my dream, I'm worried. Do you think it's possible that you could check Wadim's grave just to make certain? It wouldn't hurt any."

"Certainly it wouldn't hurt any, but I don't know where Wadim's buried, Maria. He was excommunicated by the Church, and when you are excommunicated by the Church you cannot be buried in consecrated ground…But since you're worried, I'll go and ask Richter. He might know where Wadim is buried."

Maria smiled. "Thank you."


	7. Cross of Thorns

**Author's Note**: Well, there truly is a first time for everything, and for me that has been being flamed. Granted what the person said made me laugh more than anything—especially since he has never even written a story—but I will say, as I have many times, I do appreciate and enjoy critical comments. But if you think my story sucks, I would like to see specifically why—in other words, in the text!

_You've got blood on your hands,  
from a cross of thorns_—

"Cross of Thorns"—Black Sabbath

**Lost Story**

**Chapter VII**

Adrian watched, as his breath turned into a cloud of fog. The rain had stopped, but its appearance foretold a cold night in the Carpathians.

Once Adrian entered the estate that had been the home of the Belmont family, since Trevor Belmont in the late fifteenth-century, he observed one of his favorite features on the Belmont Estate—the trees. The Belmont Estate had one of the most beautiful forests in Warakiya; but on this early spring day, many of the trees were bare.

Passing St. George's church, Adrian rapped on the main door of the Belmont residence.

On the other side was Annette Belmont, who smiled at Adrian. "Hello, Adrian."

Adrian returned the smile. "Hello, Annette."

But after Adrian finished his greeting, he heard the distinct voice of a two-year-old. "Hewwo!"

Adrian maintained his smile, and watched his niece slip in front of her mother. Sidra Belmont wore a lavender dress that seemed to bring out her auburn hair and brown eyes. Born only a few days before Alcander, Sidra was Adrian's favorite of the Belmont children—perhaps due to Adrian wanting a third child, only this time a girl instead of a boy. "Hello there, little Sidra!" Adrian said, while he scooped his niece, and tickled her belly.

Sidra squealed and kicked.

And Adrian laughed, as he returned Sidra to the floor—who toddled over to her mother.

Annette chuckled, while she ran her fingers through Sidra's hair.

"Is Candor here?" asked Sidra.

"No, Cander's not here. He's at home with Aunt Maria, but I think I should ask her to bring him and Lysander by tomorrow."

"Sidra," Annette began—while she leaned down to her daughter, "why don't you go over and play with your toys, while I have a chat with your Uncle Adrian?"

Sidra responded to her mother, with a smile that illuminated her eyes, and a nod.

Annette returned the smile. "That's a good girl!" she said, while she gave her daughter a kiss and a pat on the backside, to send her on her way.

Then, Annette turned to Adrian. "Something tells me, Adrian, that you probably came here to see Richter?"

Adrian smiled. "You know me all too well, Annette."

Annette returned the smile. "I think he's in the barn with Riff—drilling him."

"Thank you, Annette."

* * *

The Belmont stable gave off its familiar smell of hay and horses, once Adrian entered; but before he went any further, Adrian patted the nose of Richter's favorite horse, Sylvester. In a backroom, Adrian could hear Richter drilling his son, Christian Belmont—or 'Riff,' as he was affectionately called in the family—apparently in the proper use of some type of weapon. Ever since the Belmont family began its quest to protect humanity from supernatural evil, Belmont children had been trained by their fathers in the art of fighting and self-defense. In the last couple of months Christian Belmont, who was nine, followed in the footsteps of his ancestors, under the training of his father. On this particular day, Richter had strung up a straw doll, which Christian struck with a large dagger—while his father explained to him which blows would have a powerful effect on an enemy.

Adrian crossed his arms over his chest. "If you put more weight on your feet, Riff, you'll have a much more powerful effect on your enemy."

Christian stopped and turned. "Hi, Uncle Adrian!"

"Tepes?!" added Richter. "What brings you here?"

Adrian uncrossed his arms and smiled. "To see you, Belmont."

"Oh, I see."

"But it appears like you're busy. Your son, however, is doing a great job!"

Christian smiled.

Richter also smiled, while he ran his fingers through Christian's brown hair. "Yes, he is; and because he's done such a great job, I think I'll let him go early."

Christian turned to his father and smiled.

Richter maintained his smile, and patted his son on the back. "Don't forget to clean your dagger, Riff."

"I won't!" Christian said, while he charged out of the barn.

Richter's smile did not cease, as he turned to his brother-in-law. "So, what's going on?"

"I can tell you what's going on, but can we go outside? It would be much easier to talk in the fresh air, than in a place surrounded with straw."

"Certainly."

* * *

With the Romanian air becoming even colder, Richter asked again, "So, what's going on?"

"Well, it's about a dream that Maria had—well, actually you can call it a nightmare."

"Oh?" Richter began, while he ran his fingers over his trim beard—that was worn in a traditional style of Orthodox priests.

"It was about Wadim Carol. I guess Maria had a dream about him, because the two attended religious classes together."

Richter wanted to chuckle, because Maria had a dream about another man, but decided not to. Instead he nodded. "I see."

"Well, at the end of the dream, Maria said that Wadim's face turned into a monster."

The word 'monster' brought a little shock to Richter. "Interesting."

"But what truly makes it interesting is that Natalia had a pair of dreams about Wadim, and woke up each time not feeling well. Maria told me that Natalia is having some kind of reaction to being stung, or bitten by a spider, and even though Natalia should know the difference between a vampire bite and something else, Maria's still worried based on her dream."

Richter looked to the ground, ran his fingers through his bread, paced, and turned back to Adrian. "So what you're saying is, is that Maria thinks Wadim has risen from the grave—as an undead creature?"

Adrian nodded. "Yes, she wonders if some of those rumors that Wadim engaged in sorcery…"

"There is some truth behind that."

"Really?!"

Richter nodded. "Yes, after the execution, Wadim's cell was searched, and inside was a book on sorcery…At least that's what Father Hans told me. Whether or not Wadim actually practiced anything in the book is anybody's guess."

"I'm surprised that a book like that would be printed in Romania."

"It wasn't printed in Romania. It was printed in France. Wadim must have got it, when he went to France years ago. How it escaped from under the nose of the governor, and the tsar's other authorities, is beyond me"

"What were the contents of the book?"

"I don't know. Father Hans told me he took one look at the book, determined what it was, and set it on fire—lest the book find its way into somebody else's hands, and make them turn from the Lord."

Adrian said nothing. Instead, he nodded—before he returned to the original subject. "Anyway, based on her dream, Natalia's illness, and the fact that events in Wadim's life do point to ways an individual may be reborn as a vampire, Maria asked me, if I would examine Wadim's grave. I do not believe there would be any harm in that. The only trouble is, because Wadim was excommunicated, I don't know where he is buried. But I thought that you might know."

Richter shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I wasn't at the execution."

"Maybe Father Hans would know?"

Again, Richter shook his head. "No, Father Hans had nothing to do with the removal of the body." Richter looked at the ground, plucked his beard, and returned to Adrian. "But I think Udolf might know."

"Udolf? The mortician?"

Richter nodded. "Yes, he would have been responsible for removing the body from the gallows."

"I've chatted with Udolf at Vasile's a lot. I'm sure he's there now. I think I'll go, and talk to him."

* * *

When Adrian entered Vasile's, he realized one of the reasons why he liked to come to the tavern earlier in the day—smoke. Adrian considered smoking a disgusting habit, and Vasile's contained more of it later in the evening.

"Adrian," Vasile began—while he talked over some patrons singing tavern songs; and swinging their beer mugs, "you're here later than usual. Care for a glass of wine?"

"Yes. By the way, I'm looking for Udolf. Is he here?"

"Yeah, he's right over there," Vasile replied, while he pointed to a dark corner of the bar that was near the area where Edward sat.

"Thank you."

Udolf was a large man in his middle-forties, with dark eyes and hair. In front of Udolf was a mug, and in his hand was a pipe. Adrian had not caught all—and probably was glad he did not—of the conversation between Edward and Udolf. But what he did hear was Edward discussing his religious mysticism, about how God had placed a barrier over Orthodox countries, and that Napoleon Bonaparte would never be able to take Romania. Udolf's response to Edward's mysticism was that if that was true, then why did God allow Constantinople to fall to the Muslims back in the fifteenth-century?

"Udolf?" Adrian said.

Udolf turned. "Ah! Good evening, Adrian!"

"God loves you," Edward said, while he blessed Adrian like a priest.

Adrian snickered. "Thank you, Edward. Uh, Udolf, there's something I need to discuss with you about privately. Could we move to a table?"

Udolf nodded, and grabbed his mug. "Certainly."

"The Lord be with you!" Edward said to Adrian and Udolf, as they left his presence.

"And also with you," Udolf responded.

Adrian took his glass, and sat with Udolf in an area that was less smoky. "Sometimes I wonder how you're able to deal with him?"

Udolf chuckled. "Oh, Edward's all right, you just have to know how to put up with him. So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"It's about Wadim Carol, who was executed about a week ago?"

"Yes, what about him?"

"Did you take care of his body?"

Udolf puffed his pipe. "Yeah, somebody had to.

"So I take it that you buried him?"

Udolf gulped his beer. "Again, somebody had to. I didn't like the idea of parts of his body possibly finding their way back into town."

Adrian paused at the idea of a mutilated corpse on Warakiya's square. "Makes perfect sense."

Udolf nodded, while he puffed his pipe.

"So do you remember where you buried Wadim?"

"Yeah, you wanting to leave some flowers or something?"

"It's not exactly me; it's my wife."

"Maria?"

Adrian nodded, while he took a sip—and brushed the smoke out of his face. "She grew up with Wadim in the village. They attended church together under Father Miceadu. She has some sympathy for him."

Udolf nodded, while he took another puff—and did his best to keep the smoke away from Adrian. "I knew Wadim, since he was a child. I guess I should feel some sympathy for him too. Maybe tomorrow I'll visit the grave, and leave some flowers."

_"Not quite what I had in mind_…When did you plan on visiting the grave?"

"I have some work to do on a casket, but I may close an hour early, and visit the grave."

"Where exactly is the grave?"

"Do you know the area right outside of town, and off Borgo Pass—where there's a circular area of trees in a meadow?" Udolf asked, while he drew a circle in the air.

"…Yes. Yes, I know that place."

"That's where I buried him. I put a cross there, as a grave marker…I only hope that in Wadim's final moments, he made a silent prayer to God." Udolf chuckled. "I just thought of something."

"What's that?"

"Could you imagine the look on Edward's face, when he gets to Heaven, and sees Wadim there?"

Adrian laughed. "Considering that he condemned him to Hell the other day that would be quite funny." Adrian finished his glass and added, "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to have one more, then I need to hurry to the Belmont Estate."

* * *

It was indeed a chilly night in the Carpathians, but the beautiful crescent moon and stars helped illuminate the town—that was already lit from the flames inside the street posts. Adrian arrived at the Belmont Estate, while the Belmont's servant cook, Anna, prepared dinner. But since the Belmont dinner was not finished, Adrian believed that at the Tepes residence it was not finished yet either.

Richter relaxed in the master room, and chuckled as he watched his two-year-old daughter charge after her big brother. Every time Adrian entered the Belmont master room, he always admired the portraits around the fireplace. Directly above the fireplace was a portrait of Trevor Belmont. To Trevor's left was a portrait of Simon Belmont—that was painted in front of the fireplace. And to Trevor's right was a portrait of Christopher Belmont.

"Care for a glass of wine?" Richter asked, while he motioned his brother-in-law to have a seat.

"Well…well, I guess one more won't kill me."

Richter chuckled, while he requested a glass be brought to Adrian. "So what brings you here so late? Maria must be worried."

"Indeed. That's why I'll have to make this quick."

"Make what quick?"

"I chatted with Udolf at Vasile's. He took care of Wadim's body, and told me where he buried him."

Richter took a sip. "I see."

"And I need you to help me."

"Help you with what?"

"I need you to help me disinter Wadim's body."

Richter paused, before he nodded. "All right."

"Thank you. I told Udolf that Maria had sympathy for Wadim, because they attended school together. Well, that sympathy ran off on Udolf, and he told me that he's going to close his shop an hour early, and place flowers on Wadim's grave."

"So in other words, you need to have Wadim disinterred and re-interred, before Udolf shows up?"

"Correct. That's why I need you to help me."

Richter took another sip. "When do you want me to help you?"

"Tomorrow morning, at eight," Adrian replied, before he took a sip. "I'll bring Maria and double, double toil and trouble here, while we examine the grave."

"Very well, then. I'll see you at eight," Richter said, while he took a final sip.


	8. Headless Cross

_Look through the people,  
and on through the mist,  
to the hill of the headless cross_—

"Headless Cross"—Black Sabbath

**Lost Story**

**Chapter VIII**

At eight-thirty the following morning—with pickaxes and shovels strapped to their saddlebags—Adrian and Richter galloped out of Warakiya under a gray sky, as a cold wind blew through their hair.

"Damn," Adrian began—while his breath morphed into a fog, "it's after Easter, and it's supposed to be Spring; so why is it so bloody cold?"

"We're in the mountains. What did you expect?"

"I'm aware of that, but it wasn't this cold last year. Based on the sky and temperature, I could see it snowing!"

"Very possible; it's happened before. Besides, it's not like Spring or Summer lasts long in this place—just long enough for a quick harvest." Richter watched his breath change to fog, before he added, "Hell, based on the way the temperature is now, whatever bit or stung Natalia never would have survived."

* * *

When Adrian and Richter arrived at the destination mentioned by Udolf, flurries began to descend. Wadim's grave was in a quiet meadow, circled by four pine trees, and passed over by the creatures of the forest; in some respects, it was a more peaceful resting place than a churchyard. Marking Wadim's grave was a Latin cross. However, due to either the wind or the creatures of the forest, the cross had fallen over—and its top had been broken over a rock. But it was easy for Adrian and Richter to tell on what side of the marker Udolf buried Wadim, due to the freshly dug earth.

Adrian and Richter tied their horses to a pair of trees, and removed their pickaxes and shovels.

"How far down do you think Udolf buried him?" asked Adrian.

"It's hard to tell. But considering that the execution was early in the morning, it happened on a warm day, it was still warm when the sunset, I'd say the chances are good he could have buried him all six feet—though possibly five."

"Then to reach the top of the coffin, it would be at least around four feet?"

Richter nodded. "Yeah, something like that."

"So how long do you think it will take?"

"…With the two of us working together, hopefully two hours."

The exposed soil was the easiest for Adrian and Richter to remove, as it could be brushed aside; but once the two dug further into the earth, the pickax was necessary, because the temperature of the air had hardened the soil.

After two hours of digging, Adrian and Richter finally noticed the top of the coffin. The box that held Wadim's earthly remains was untarnished. It was a casket that the Church would help provide for a poor person's funeral. Adrian used his pickax to chop into the earth, where he believed the casket's lock would be.

The lock was simple, but because Adrian did not have much room to swing at the lock, he fell to the ground after the lock connected with his pickax. Nevertheless, the lock was removed.

"Open the coffin, Richter," Adrian said, while he brushed himself off.

Richter nodded. However, he predicted the stench of death would emerge from the open casket. Therefore, he used one hand to place his shirt over his nose and mouth, while his freehand opened the coffin.

With the casket open, Adrian stepped forward to view its contents.

But Richter viewed the contents first. And in response, Richter gasped and crossed himself. "My God!"

"What?"

But Adrian did not need Richter to respond; he saw it for himself. The casket contained a rotting corpse—leaving mostly bones, with very little flesh. Ironically, the clothes on the corpse did not contain mold or had rotted away. "Impossible! He's been dead for, what, two weeks? He couldn't have rotted away so quickly. This can't be Wadim's corpse."

"Look at the neck," Richter said, pointing. "It's twisted. That's the sign of somebody who has been hanged, and the little amount of flesh remaining around the neck shows the signs of a noose. This has to be Wadim's corpse, unless you got your directions wrong from Udolf."

"…No, this is the right location…But that can't be Wadim's corpse. It simply can't!"

"Why can't it?"

Adrian was flabbergasted. "Because a corpse can't rot that quickly!"

"Under most circumstances a corpse can't rot that quickly."

"Under most circumstances?! Then what's a circumstance where it could?"

"…It could be a sign from God."

"What?!"

Richter crossed his arms and nodded. "It could be a sign that Wadim didn't die in God's grace, and his quickly rotting corpse is a sign of that."

"And you believe that, Richter?"

Richter looked at the ground, and then returned to Adrian. "I honestly don't know, but I don't have any other explanation; do you?"

"Maybe the corpse isn't actually Wadim…"

"But you've already established that you weren't wrong on the directions that Udolf gave you."

Adrian paused, before he nodded. "Yes. Yes, I did."

"Plus the body has rotted, but the clothes have not. That doesn't make sense."

Adrian looked at the ground. "No. No, it doesn't." Adrian looked at the sky, and returned to Richter. "I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to talk to Udolf at Vasile's this evening. I'll ask him the appropriate questions."

"You're going to tell him that we dug up Wadim's corpse?"

"No! Don't be stupid. But I do know a way to get the right information out of him."

Richter nodded. "You will tell me about it, right?"

Adrian returned the nod. "Of course. Now then, please help me rebury this corpse."

* * *

On Adrian and Richter's return to the Belmont Estate, the two had to brush the snow out of their eyes.

"So much for Spring," Adrian said.

After securing the horses in the Belmont stable, Adrian and Richter discovered that the eldest of the Belmont and Tepes children were playing around a pair of trees.

"Riff," Richter began, "it's time for you to continue your training."

Christian started to pout. "Can't I play with Sander?"

Richter shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Your training is very important."

Accepting his fate, Christian sighed. "Sorry, Sander, it looks like we'll have to stop."

Christian began to charge to his father and uncle, but his four-year-old cousin—who was remarkably quick for age—beat him to the adults.

"What's the training?" asked Lysander.

"It's training to protect yourself and others, Sander," responded Richter.

"Then I want to train too!"

"You're not quite big enough for that yet, Sander," Adrian said with a smile, as he scooped up his firstborn.

"Uh, uh," Lysander said. "I'm a big boy! Mommy says so all the time."

"I know she does…"

"So do you, Daddy!" Lysander interjected, while pointing a finger.

Adrian chuckled. "That's true. You are a big boy!" Adrian kissed his son's cheek, patted his bottom, and turned to Richter. "Is there anything Lysander can participate in?"

Richter placed his chin between his thumb and first finger. "There are some stretching exercises he could do. They can be done inside as well."

"Good. I need to check on his mother and brother."

"Mommy's gone," Lysander said.

"Oh? Where did she go?"

"To Natalia's."

"Oh, and what about your brother?"

"He's inside with Sidra."

Adrian nodded. "Well, let's go inside. I want to help you train."

* * *

After learning from Annette that Maria went to Natalia's to check on her health, and observing Alcander with Sidra, Adrian sat in a guest room with Richter, and watched his son and nephew stretch. Christian had the exercises down to a science. Lysander needed some help, but did very well. Adrian smiled, because he too intended to train Lysander and Alcander one day.

Twenty minutes later, the cheery voice of Maria entered the guest room. "Well, I'm back."

"Mommy!" Lysander said, while he charged to his mother.

"There's my big boy!" Maria said with a smile, as she scooped up Lysander.

Adrian chuckled. "Sander, you're supposed to be training."

But Lysander's response was to place his head against his mother's cheek.

Richter smiled and gestured. "Na, training's over for the day."

"Really?!" an illuminated Christian asked.

Richter maintained his smile and nodded. "Yes, really. Go on and play with your cousin."

"Thanks, Dad!" a still beaming Christian responded.

Maria returned Lysander to the floor, and smiled as she watched her firstborn run off with his cousin.

"So," began Adrian, "how was Natalia?"

Maria maintained her smile. "Much better! She was walking around again today, and has regained some of her appetite. The only thing she hated was that it started snowing again, but at least the snow would eliminate whatever it was that stung or bit her."

"How are the wounds on her neck?" asked Richter.

"She told me they are much better. The swelling has gone down on them some."

"Did you actually look at them?" asked Adrian.

Maria nodded. "They're quite disgusting, but Natalia told me that they're better than what they were the last time I saw her."

"So I take it they don't resemble a vampire bite?"

Maria shook her head. "No, they're too puffy."

Adrian nodded and began to pace. "Good."

"I'm sorry that I had you go to Wadim's grave."

Adrian gestured, but he did not look at Maria. "No, it's all right. It's better to be safe than sorry sometimes."

Maria squinted. "Is something wrong, Adrian?"

Adrian stopped, and turned to his wife. _"I most certainly do not want to tell her what I saw."_ Then, Adrian gestured and shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Maria cocked her head. "Are you sure?"

Adrian nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Was Wadim sleeping peacefully?"

Adrian paused, before he gave a nod. "Yes, he was quite peaceful." Out of the corner of his eye, Adrian shot Richter a look not to say anything; then he returned to Maria, smiled, and yawned. "I'm rather tired. Are you ready to go home?"

* * *

A few hours later, Adrian entered Vasile's. Vasile's was quiet with the exception of Edward, who held a glass of beer in one hand and a prayer rope in the other.

"Good afternoon, Adrian," Vasile said, while he added an extra log to the fire. "So much for Spring, huh?"

Adrian nodded. "Very true."

"Wine as usual?" Vasile asked, as he prepared to light the candles.

"Of course!" Adrian said with a smile, while he took his usual seat at the bar.

"God loves you!" Edward said, as he gestured his prayer rope.

Adrian maintained his smile. "Thank you, Edward…_Wait! Edward would be someone, who might know about the situation with Wadim."_ Adrian took the chair next to Edward. "Edward, how are you?"

Edward gasped, and clapped his hands. "How are you?! This is the first time you've ever sat by me."

"Well, that's normally, because I'm so adamant about sitting in my favorite spot over there," Adrian said, while he pointed. Then he took a sip of wine. "It's similar to how I want my children not to jump on my chair, and to keep their toys out of it."

"Those are two good boys," Edward said, before he took a gulp of his beer.

Adrian smiled. "Thank you, Edward." Adrian sipped his wine and added, "Say, Edward, you know most things Christian, don't you?"

Edward flashed the cross of his prayer rope. "I have done my best to serve and follow the Lord all of my life."

Adrian nodded. "Well, then, in your eighty-plus years of life, have you ever heard of a person dying, and their body has rotted away almost immediately after death?"

"Oh, yes, I have! When I was a boy, the priest of this village, Father Chrysostom, told a story of a man who did everything that was unlawful in God's sight. When this man died, his body was so corrupt that his flesh immediately rotted away." Edward took another gulp and gestured. "Father also said it showed the fate of the impure soul, one who died without the grace of God."

"You mean a person who was in Hell?"

Edward nodded, and crossed himself.

After Edward finished the sign of the cross, Udolf entered the tavern.

"Good evening, Udolf," Vasile said.

"Good evening, Vasile," Udolf replied, while he placed some tobacco in his pipe.

"The usual?"

Udolf nodded.

"Greetings, Udolf?" Adrian said.

"Ah, Adrian, good evening! I didn't recognize you, because you're not in your usual place." Udolf began to take a seat next to Adrian.

But Adrian stopped him. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Could we move to the table that we were at last night?"

Udolf nodded, and took his mug from Vasile. "Certainly."

But before Adrian could leave the bar, Edward placed his hand onto Adrian's. Adrian was confused, and a part of him wanted to swat Edward's hand away—but if Adrian did swat Edward's hand away, he probably would have killed him from shock.

"Lord Jesus Christ," Edward began, "have mercy on us, sinners."

Adrian nodded, and patted Edward's hand before he walked away. "Thank you, Edward."

Adrian and Udolf placed their respected drinks on the table, and as Udolf prepared to light his pipe he added, "See, ol' Edward's not all that bad; you just have to know how to put up with him."

"I usually put up with him by ignoring him. I have to hear enough religion in church, when I go with Maria."

Udolf nodded, while he lit his pipe, and did his best to blow the smoke away from Adrian. "Understood. So, what do you need to talk about?"

"Well, this is going to sound very queer, but it's about Wadim…"

"I went and visited him not very long ago."

"Right, you told me you were going to do that yesterday."

Udolf nodded. "Yes, and I noticed that the cross I put on his grave was broken. I think I'll go there again, sometime soon, and add another one. Anyway, I didn't mean to interrupt, what is it about Wadim that you want to know?"

_"Now I'm very certain that I had the right grave. If this couldn't get any weirder…_Well, my wife asked me this last night. She wondered, what was Wadim wearing when he was executed?"

Udolf placed his chin between his thumb and first finger. "Let me see…"

"I would have asked at you at the bar, for the record, but Wadim's name would have made Edward go off on another dialogue about saints and sinners."

Udolf nodded. "Right. Right. Oh, I remember now! It was a simple plain white shirt and a pair of black trousers."

Adrian almost coughed up his drink. What Udolf described was exactly what the remains in the coffin wore—with neither mold nor disintegration.

"Are you all right, Adrian?"

Adrian nodded. "Sorry, the wine must have gone down the wrong pipe…_Well, perhaps that settles it? Perhaps the corpse I saw today truly was Wadim's. Everything I've heard so far appears to support that. Maybe Edward is right? Perhaps Wadim's corpse rotted away by its own impurity, leaving only his clothes that have no stain of corruption?"_


	9. She is Vampyre, Nosferatu

**Author's Note**: I would just like to remind everyone that this story is not canonical with anything that has been written later in the timeline of stories I have written. As always, please read and give critical reviews.

_The sky is red.  
I don't understand.  
People are sayin' the woman is damned.  
She makes you burn with the wave of her hand_—

"Burn"—Deep Purple

**Lost Story**

**Chapter IX**

Early the next morning, Adrian waited outside Alcander's nursery, where he knew Maria was at with their son. _"How am I going to tell her?"_ Adrian said, while he brushed the hair out of his eyes. The question inside his mind made him pace. _"I hate having to be the bearer of bad news."_

A moment later, the nursery door opened, and a happy Alcander—with a pacifier in his mouth—charged out of the room.

Alcander was followed by his giggling mother. "Ever seen a happier baby?"

Out of instinct, Adrian nodded, but he quickly changed the subject. "Maria?"

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to you about something. Please," Adrian said, while he gestured Maria to follow him into the nursery.

"Can you give me a minute?"

Adrian nodded.

"Thank you."

* * *

Alcander's nursery had its familiar smell of baby powder, and its familiar mess of Alcander's toys around the rocking horse. Adrian placed a hand on the rail of Alcander's crib, and looked at the icon of Mary holding the Christ child that was above the crib. But once Adrian heard the familiar footsteps of Maria, he turned to the entrance.

"So what do you need to talk to me about?" Maria asked, as she entered.

Adrian ran his hand across the crib rail. "Andrew, Natalia's servant, came by while you were busy with Cander."

"How is Natalia?"

"…She's dead."

Maria gasped. "What?! That's impossible! She was just fine, when I saw her yesterday."

Adrian nodded. "I said the same thing to Andrew, but somehow she must have taken a turn for the worse. She was found dead in her bed this morning."

"Dead from what?!"

"I don't know, and neither does Andrew. He suspects that it might complications from those marks on her throat."

"Complications how?"

"I don't know. Doctor Charles Damien is supposed to arrive at the Sotinsk Estate today to examine her. After that, I'm sure we'll know more about what happened."

* * *

Charles Damien arrived at the Sotinsk Estate before noon. The examination was brief, lasting only half an hour. Damien concluded that Natalia had died from an infection—that the wounds on her neck were not properly cleaned.

* * *

In the early nineteenth-century, the cycle of life and death was as common in Warakiya, as it was in other parts of the world. However, just because the cycle of life and death was viewed as 'part of life' that did not make the loss of a loved one any easier on those whom the deceased had left behind. Like other Romanians, Maria Tepes hated funerals. She would rather remember the person alive, than to see him or her asleep in their coffin. Nevertheless, Maria knew that it would be wrong for her not to attend Natalia's funeral mass.

Funeral masses are usually open to the public, but the crowd of mourners at Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows three days later was small. To many villagers of Warakiya, Natalia was an aloof noblewoman; but some of the older women of the village, attended to pray for Natalia's soul. The Tepeses and the Belmonts were present—although their children, with the exception of Christian, stayed behind at the Renards. Also present were Udolf, the mortician; and Father Hans, who presided over the liturgy.

Adrian watched the expressions of his wife during and after the funeral mass. Maria had survived the liturgy with few tears. But during the procession to the Sotinsk family crypt, Maria watched Natalia's daughter, Linda, cover her face and weep. The sadness expressed by Linda Sotinsk resulted in Maria breaking down as well.

After the casket had been sprinkled with holy water, and Father Hans said a final prayer for the dead, the mourners were allowed to touch the casket one last time. Maria patted cedar casket with tears in her eyes, crossed herself, and muttered, "Goodbye, Natalia."

"It's all right," Adrian said, while he massaged his wife's arms. "Let's go to your parents' house, retrieve the children, and try to think of something a little more cheerful."

* * *

When the Tepeses returned home with their children, Maria appeared to cheer up. She played with Lysander and Alcander, and giggled at their antics. But before she retired, Adrian observed Maria praying by their bedside. The moon was three-quarters full, and it illuminated Maria's golden hair, along with the icon of Christ that was over Maria's side of the bed. Adrian ran his fingers through her hair, but Maria did not turn to him. She remained in prayer.

* * *

The hooing of an owl opened Maria's eyes. She found herself in a familiar place—the forest outside her home. Snow clung to the trees and rocks. Maria watched her breath form into a cloud, and felt the snow melt under her bare feet. Ironically, Maria was not bothered by the cold—even though she was dressed in only her nightgown, which would usually result in frostbite or hypothermia.

"I saw you praying," a familiar voice said.

Maria turned.

The voice belonged to Wadim, who stepped forward with the moon behind him. His shadow crept closer to Maria with each step. "You were praying for Natalia, weren't you? Do you think that God heard you?" Wadim stopped walking to Maria and started to pace, while he gestured. "But you have nothing to fear; you know that, don't you? You know that Father Hans administered last rites before Natalia died." Wadim chuckled. "And now Natalia has gone to Heaven," Wadim added, as he gestured to the sky. "Gone to Heaven to be with God and all His saints."

Maria glared. "You came to Natalia, didn't you?"

"Ooo, that's a scary look," Wadim replied, while he placed his hands inside the sleeves of his long coat. "And to answer your question, yes, I did come to Natalia."

"What are you?"

"What do you mean, 'what are you?' I'm Wadim Carol. I grew up in this village, just like you did. I attended the same religious school, just like you did. And…"

"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost what are you?"

Wadim chuckled. "Well, since you put it that way." Wadim smiled, and flashed his fangs. "This is what I am, Maria," Wadim said, before he removed his fangs. "I am a true gift of the enlightenment. I have truly found, what I could not find following Christ—freedom!"

"You have found no freedom! You have found a curse!" Maria made the sign of the cross in the air. "Now leave me!"

Wadim glared, but then his appearance returned to normal, and he stepped back. "Very well. I will leave you. But do look after your children. Little children can be so fragile, don't you think?"

* * *

Wadim left her, and Maria found herself back in the master bedroom. _"Another dream?__ Wait! What was that he said about my children?"_

Maria removed her bed sheets, and journeyed to her sons' rooms. In the nursery, Alcander clutched his stuffed bear, dangled a pacifier from his mouth, and slept peacefully. Maria smiled. But when Maria entered Lysander's room, she screamed.

The screech woke up not only Alcander but Adrian as well. While Alcander cried from the nursery, Adrian entered Lysander's room to discover his wife quivering.

"What's the matter?"

Maria did not respond.

Adrian looked past his wife to Lysander's bed, and found it empty. "Where's Sander?"

"I-I had another dream. Wadim was in it, and he told me to look after my children, and…"

Adrian did not wait for his wife to finish. Instead, he grabbed his long coat and sword.

* * *

Wearing his small coat over his pajamas, and his untied shoes—with the strings stuffed inside—Lysander held the hand of a pale woman. The woman's hand was cold, so cold that Lysander complained about her touch; but the woman told him not to complain, because they had to hurry, so they could meet his mother and brother. The woman was Natalia back from the dead. However, Lysander did not know she was dead. Despite Lysander being a bright boy at four years of age, death was not something that he understood.

"Natalia, where are we going again?"

"To the lake," Natalia replied, while she looked at Lysander. "You know, the one that you swim at in the summertime?"

Lysander nodded. Although, Lysander knew that the woman leading him was Natalia, he also knew there was something different about her—her face! Natalia's face did not display the rosy color that Lysander had known, when he visited her with his mother. "Natalia?"

"Yes, Lysander?"

"Wh-what's w-wrong w-wit your face? I-itt looks so white."

Natalia stopped, and knelt before the boy. "It's just that I'm cold." Natalia placed the back of her hand against Lysander's cheek. "Your cheeks are cold, and your teeth are chattering. Are you cold, Little Lysander?"

Lysander nodded, as his teeth chattered.

"Here," Natalia began with a smile—which revealed some sharp teeth, "let me warm you up." Natalia drew closer to Lysander. At first, it appeared as though she would kiss him, but her lips went for his neck.

"Excuse me?" a voice said.

Natalia stopped, and turned to the voice—a voice that she was familiar with.

The voice belonged to Adrian Tepes, who was thrown into a rage, by the sight of his son in harm's way. With the cut of his sword, Adrian decapitated Natalia. The severed head fell in front of Lysander, who screamed as the blackish-blood splattered on his small coat. But Adrian paid no attention to his son's cries. He was protecting Lysander form the undead. While his son ran away, Adrian impaled his sword through the heart of Natalia's headless corpse.

Although, Lysander had ran away, Adrian could still hear him crying, and see his footprints in the snow. Lysander's trail led to the Tepes residence. "Lysander?!" Adrian said, while he followed his son.

Lysander's cries were met with the cries of another small child, whom Adrian was familiar with. These cries belonged to his youngest son. Alcander was wrapped in a blanket, and was being carried by his mother.

"Sander!" Maria said, while she used a freehand to scoop up her firstborn. "Are you all right?"

Lysander continued to cry, place his head against Maria's cheek, and grabbed a lock of her hair.

"Take them both inside now!" declared Adrian. "And take them to our room! And be quick, before they catch pneumonia!"

Maria nodded, and carried her crying children inside.

"You'll know soon enough what's going on!" added Adrian. Once he knew Maria and the children were safely inside, Adrian turned to the sky. "It will be dawn in a few hours. Thank God." Adrian looked at the snow that sparkled from the moon and the stars. "He's a strong boy." Then he turned back to the heavens. "I can only pray that what he witnessed tonight won't traumatize him."


	10. The Aftermath

**Author's Note**: Greetings! Yes, I know that it's been a while, but my editor was away. Anyway, I think that this chapter will help fill in some of the gaps that chapter nine might have left out.

_Bring me my broadsword and a clear understanding.  
Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman.  
Get up to the roundhouse on the cliff-top standing.  
Take women and children and bed them down_—

"Broadsword"—Jethro Tull

**Lost Story**

**Chapter X**

Although, Adrian wanted to check on the status of his boy, he could not, with a severed corpse lying on his property. Adrian may not have cared for Natalia in life, but he was not going to allow her body to be desecrated by the creatures of the forest. While it was a disgusting job, Adrian carried Natalia's severed head by the hair, and dragged her torso by the arm, to the Tepes stable. Adrian lit a lantern, placed Natalia's severed corpse on the bed of a wagon, and hastily cover it with hay. Although he was trying to be quick, Adrian did notice a look of peace on Natalia's face.

With only his pajamas under his coat, and with only two hours of darkness remaining, Adrian drove to the Belmont Estate. Normally, Adrian would shiver in such a chilly temperature, but his adrenaline kept him warm. The Belmont family was asleep, when Adrian arrived. Under normal circumstances, Adrian would not disturb them, but this situation was anything but normal. Adrian hoped that his knocks would not wake up little Sidra, but wake her up they did. "Well, at least I know that the rest of the family will wake up."

Of course, the only member of the Belmont family Adrian was concerned about was Richter; and indeed it was Richter, who opened his door with a glare—but Richter began to relax, when he noticed it was his brother-in-law. "Tepes?"

"Hello, Belmont," Adrian said with a nod.

"The hell are you doing here so early in the morning?!" Richter observed Adrian's attire. "And why are you dressed like that on a night like this?!"

"Richter, get dressed quickly, and meet me outside. Then, I'll tell you what's going on then."

Richter nodded, before he charged inside his home.

Adrian waited only five minutes for Richter to arrive.

"All right, what's going on?" asked Richter.

"Apparently Maria's dream carried more weight than I thought." Adrian gestured Richter to the wagon. "Look," Adrian said, while he brushed away some of the hay.

Under the moon, Richter noticed Natalia's severed head. "Jesus Christ?!" Richter said, as he crossed himself.

Adrian nodded. "Maria had another dream tonight. Wadim was in it. He warned her to look out for the children. Maria entered the boys' rooms, and found Sander missing. Once I realized what was going on, I charged outside—and hence that's why I'm still wearing my pajamas. I found my son with Natalia, who prepared to give him the vampire's kiss. But as you can see, I stopped her." Adrian looked to the heavens. "I can only hope that my boy won't be traumatized by what he experienced."

"How is Sander?"

"I don't know. I didn't have the chance to look at him. How could I, with a severed corpse on my property?"

Richter nodded. "So what are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to secretly re-inter Natalia's corpse, and I need you to help me."

"Me?" Richter said, pointing to himself.

Adrian nodded. "Yes, I need you to distract those who are inside the Sotinsk residence, which is more than likely Andrew. I don't care what you do, just do something. While you're doing that, you can tell Andrew—or whomever—that I'm placing flowers outside Natalia's tomb for Maria, because this is the best time for me to do so; even though I'll actually be re-interring her. After I've re-interred her corpse, I'll come inside the house, and pray that Andrew does not see the blood on my coat."

Richter placed his chin between his thumb and first finger, and looked at the ground. "All right," he said, before he removed his hand, and returned eye contact with Adrian. "I have an idea. I'll tell Andrew that we are to conduct business in the town of Jova, but that this was the best time for you to place flowers outside Natalia's tomb. And I'll add that I've come to inquire about the spiritual wellbeing of Linda, since I am a priest after all…But I do have one concern," Richter said, gesturing a finger.

"What's that?"

"Well, it's doubtful that Natalia's tomb will be unlocked. How are you going to re-inter her, if the tomb is locked?"

"It won't be locked. Natalia would have unlocked it, when she left the tomb. That is the least of my concerns."

* * *

Only a few lights shone through the windows of the Sotinsk Estate, when Adrian and Richter arrived. Adrian stopped the wagon, to let Richter off at the front door, before he continued to the Sotinsk crypt. To make certain no one would see him, Adrian stood on the side of the wagon that would conceal him from a lit candle or the moon. As Adrian predicted, the door to the crypt was unlocked. "I almost feel like a grave robber," he said, while he hastily grabbed the severed corpse.

While the crypt was dark, the moon shone just enough to allow Adrian to see Natalia's open casket. Although Adrian was trying to be quick, he carefully returned Natalia's earthly remains to her final resting place. With the body in place, Adrian closed the lid of the casket, resealed it, and grabbed a bouquet that was placed at the tomb yesterday. Yet before Adrian left the crypt, he turned to the casket and said, "May you sleep in peace forever."

* * *

With the flowers from 'Maria' placed outside the crypt, Adrian turned to the Sotinsk residence. However, before he knocked on the door, Adrian buttoned his coat around his pajamas.

Adrian's knocks were answered by Andrew.

"Greetings, Andrew. I apologize for coming so early in the morning, but this was the best time that I could place flowers from Maria outside Natalia's tomb. Maria's still upset over Natalia's passing, and I don't think she could have maintained her composure, if she was here by herself."

Andrew nodded. "I understand. Please, come in," Andrew added with a gesture.

"Thank you," Adrian said, as he entered.

"Richter informs me that you're going to Jova?"

"That's correct. We both have business there. By the way, Andrew, what will you do now; now that Natalia is no longer with us?"

"I will stay here, looking after the estate. This estate belongs to Miss Linda now. Once she has reached the age of maturity, it will be passed over to her. After that, I truly don't know."

"Is Linda handling the loss of her mother well?"

"Father Belmont asked me the same question, before you entered. From what I can tell, Miss Linda is doing as well as what could be expected. She appeared fairly strong after the funeral, but she cried herself to sleep last night…She still has her father, and I think she was closer to him than her mother. I think she'll be just fine."

Adrian nodded. "That's good to hear. I'm sure that Maria will stop by to see her from time to time." Adrian looked at the floor. "Well," he began, returning to Andrew, "I suppose that Richter and I should get going, but we'll certainly talk to you later, Andrew."

Andrew smiled. "Please do, and take care of yourself!" Andrew added, while he showed Adrian and Richter the door.

* * *

Adrian and Richter, of course, did not journey to Jova. Instead, Adrian returned Richter to the Belmont Estate, while he returned to his own residence. In the master bedroom, Adrian discovered Maria asleep with the children. Of the two boys, Lysander slept closest to his mother.

"Maria?" Adrian whispered in her ear.

"Mmm?" a groggy Maria responded, as she forced herself to open her eyes.

"Sssh!" Adrian whispered, with a finger to his lips. "Don't say too much. I don't want you to wake the boys. Is there a way you can place them on the bed without waking them?"

Maria slowly turned to her sons. "Cander, yes; Lysander, no. However, if you could gently pick Sander up, and sit him on the bed, I can move my arm away from Cander."

Adrian nodded. He gently scooped up Lysander, and placed him where Maria had been laying. Then, Adrian motioned Maria to follow him into the hallway.

"What's going on?" Maria whispered, while she closed the door to a crack.

The sun glowed on Adrian's blonde hair, and illuminated the portraits of Lysander and Alcander. With his hand next to a portrait of Lysander, Adrian said, "I didn't tell you this the other day, because I thought it would be for your own good. When Richter and I examined Wadim's grave the other day, we discovered that his corpse had rotted."

"What?! That's impossible!"

Adrian nodded. "Your response was similar to mine, but it was true nevertheless. Still, that's not what's really queer."

"Then what is?"

"While Wadim's corpse had rotted, his clothes had not. For a moment, I wondered if maybe I had discovered the wrong grave by mistake, but I asked Udolf about it that evening at Vasile's."

"What did you ask him?"

"I told Udolf that you were curious about what clothes Wadim was buried in, because you had religious education together."

Maria nodded. "Yes?"

"Well, the clothes Udolf buried Wadim in were the same ones found on that corpse. That confirmed that I had certainly located Wadim's corpse, but I still had no explanation for what I had seen." Adrian sighed, and leaned against the wall. "Besides chatting with Udolf, I also chatted with Edward—you know, the eighty-plus year old man?"

"I know who he is."

"You know, of course, how religious he is too, right?"

Maria nodded. "Yes, I grew up seeing Edward in church. I can remember someone telling me that after his wife passed away, Edward considered joining a monastery."

"Well, regardless of that, I thought that somehow Edward might have heard some religious story about a corpse rotting after death."

Maria raised her eyebrows. "You were willing to trust it?"

"I don't know, but I didn't have any other explanation. As it turns out, Edward did. Edward told me that when he was a boy the old parish priest, at Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows, told him a story about a man, who did everything that was wrong in God's eyes. After this man's death, his body began to decay, because he died without the grace of God. I don't know if Wadim died without the grace of God or not, but I was willing to accept Edward's story and be done with it.

"But then last night you mentioned your dream, and Lysander missing. Something just told me there was a connection."

"Was there?"

Adrian nodded, and turned to the portrait of his firstborn. "Indeed! A vampire called Lysander outside." Adrian turned back to Maria. "That vampire was Natalia."

"What?!" Maria said, before she covered her mouth.

Adrian nodded.

"Then you mean all those dreams were…"

"All those dreams were definitely a reality, but I stopped Natalia—she'll be at peace now." Adrian turned from his wife, as she crossed herself. With his hands behind his back, Adrian began to pace, before he turned back to Maria. "However, there are still some things that I don't know."

"Such as?"

"Was Natalia invited into the house by Lysander, or did she lure him outside? Was Sander bitten by Natalia…?"

"That I can answer with a 'no.'"

Adrian sighed in relief. "Good…But there's still one more…One that bothers me."

"What's that?"

"Did Sander, even for a moment, taste Natalia's blood?"

"I think Sander knows that you don't drink bloo…"

"Yes, but could some of it have accidentally gotten into his mouth?"

Maria looked at the floor, and returned to Adrian with a worried look. "I don't know."

"I'm going to ask Sander, as soon as he wakes up."

"And I want to be here when you do."

Adrian nodded. "Very well."

* * *

Alcander played with his blocks, while his older brother sat on the couch between his parents. Lysander did not appear traumatized, but he did appear nervous.

"Sander?" Adrian began, as he ran a finger through a curl in Lysander's hair.

"Yes?"

"Did Natalia come into the house, or did she call you to come outside?"

"That wasn't Natalia," interjected Maria.

"Huh?"

Lysander looked at his mother, with the same confused look as his father.

Maria smiled at her firstborn, and brushed his hair. "That wasn't her, sweetling."

"Well, it certainly wasn't the Virgin Mary!" responded Adrian.

Maria glared. "No, it wasn't!" Apparently, Adrian did not understand what she was trying to do. But then again, Adrian was not the best at understanding young children—even his own. "Adrian?" Maria continued.

"Yes?"

"Take Cander out for a walk. I don't care if you carry him, or push him in his buggy, just take him out for a walk." Maria placed Lysander on her lap, and held him close. "I need to talk to my big boy alone."

But Adrian stood up. He was hurt by Maria's comments. "Maria!"

"Please don't argue with me; just do it!" Maria said, with a kiss on her son's ear.

Lysander smiled and giggled.

"I'll explain later," added Maria.

Adrian sighed and nodded. "Very well." Then Adrian turned, picked up Alcander, informed the toddler that they were going for a walk, and that he would get his coat.

After Adrian and Alcander left, Maria returned Lysander to the couch and said, "That wasn't Natalia last night, sweetie."

Lysander gave Maria the same confused look. "It wasn't?"

Maria smiled, wrapped an arm around Lysander, and shook her head. "No."

"But it looked just like her, except that her skin was all white."

_"Perfect excuse…!_ That's because it wasn't her."

"Then who was it?"

"Someone who merely looked like her, whose goal was to hurt people. Daddy had to stop her, before she hurt you."

"Why did she want to hurt people?"

"I don't know, Sander. Some people are just like that."

"Oh." Lysander said, satisfied with the answer. "Then where's Natalia?"

"In Heaven."

"Heaven?"

"Yes, Heaven. You hear me and Daddy talk about Father Miceadu, the priest that baptized you and Cander?"

Lysander nodded.

"Natalia's where he is, in Heaven."

"…That's where Jesus, Mary, and all the saints are, right?"

Maria smiled and nodded. "That's right!" But Maria became serious, when she asked Lysander her next question. "Sander?"

"Yes?"

"When this person came last night that looked like Natalia, did she come into the house, or did she ask you to come outside?"

"She called me from my window. She said that I had to get up, and come with her, because we were supposed to meet you and Cander."

"Why didn't you come and get me?"

"Because I thought it was Natalia."

Maria nodded, and ran her fingers through Lysander's hair. "I understand, but next time ask Mommy or Daddy first—unless Mommy or Daddy already told you to go with this person."

Lysander nodded. "All right."

Maria continued to run her fingers through her firstborn's hair. She prepared to ask him the question that she dreaded the most. "Sander?"

"Yes, Mommy?"

"Do you remember the time when you fell, and cut your lip?"

"…Yes."

"And do you remember how you were crying, because some of your blood got in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Last night, when you were with this person that looked like Natalia—either before or after Daddy stopped her—did you ever get any of her blood in your mouth?"

"…No."

"No?"

"No."

Maria sighed in relief, and kissed Lysander's cheek. "Good boy!" She held her son close, and patted his thighs. "Sander?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to get your coat, and join Daddy and Cander in the forest?"

"M!"

"What's that?"

"Yes, please!" Lysander said with a grin.

* * *

Half an hour later, Adrian—carrying a struggling Alcander, who wanted to run after a squirrel in the forest—and Maria, carrying Lysander, returned from their walk. Adrian and Maria placed their children in the master room, before Adrian motioned Maria to the kitchen.

With his hand reclining on the stove, Adrian asked, "Why didn't you want me to stay?"

"Because I knew how you were going to question Sander, and it wasn't the right way—at least, not in this particular situation. Sander's a bright boy, but he's only four. He doesn't need to understand things like vampires just yet. He'll understand all of that, when he's older. But for right now, I just want Sander to play with his brother, play with his cousins, or play with the other children at the park. I don't want him to be afraid of somebody rising from the grave to get him."

With his hand still on the stove, Adrian turned to his children, before he returned to his wife with a nod. "All right, I understand. Well then, what did you tell Sander, and what did Sander tell you?"

"I told him that, that wasn't Natalia—but only someone who looked like her, and I asked Sander if Natalia came into the house."

"Did she?"

Maria shook her head. "No, Sander said that she called him from outside, and he followed her. Natalia told him that they were to meet me and Cander outside, and I told him that from now on he should ask either you or me—unless we've already given him permission."

Adrian nodded; but before he could ask Maria his next question, he, again, turned to his sons playing. With his back turned, Adrian asked Maria the follow-up question he dreaded. "Did Sander taste any of Natalia's blood?"

"No! And thank God for that!"

Adrian sighed in agreement, and turned back to Maria. "I don't think we should stay here tonight."

"Well, where should we go?"

"To the Belmonts or to your parents." Adrian rapped his fingers on the kitchen counter. "Regardless of where we stay, I'm going to be here tonight."

Maria was stunned. "Why?"

"I want to see if Wadim shows up…I want to catch him."

Maria nodded. "Let's go to the Belmont Estate first. Even if Richter and Ann won't let us stay there, perhaps Richter would be willing to help you."

* * *

Before noon, Adrian and Maria—along with their children—arrived at the Belmont Estate. Lysander and Christian decided to play outside; while Alcander and Sidra chose to play inside with their mothers. With the women and the children gone, Adrian and Richter stood in the master room, beneath the portraits of the Belmont ancestors. Adrian informed Richter about what Maria had told him, regarding Lysander's encounter, and asked his brother-in-law if his family could spend the night.

"You're more than welcome to stay," Richter said.

"Thank you," Adrian said with a smile. "There's something else I need to ask you, because Maria mentioned it to me earlier."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to be coming in late. I'm going to wait at my home to see if I can catch Wadim. Maria wondered if you might be willing help me, but you're under no obligation to do so. I remember how, after our last adventure in Austria, you declared that you were never leaving home again."

Richter nodded. "That is what I said. However, my statement, 'never leaving home again,' was intended to mean that I had no desire to leave the village again. But Maria's request relates to Warakiya. Therefore, I'm willing to help you."

Again, Adrian smiled. "Thank you."

Richter returned the smile. "You're welcome. So, what's your strategy?"

"Wadim probably wouldn't arrive, until Maria and I went to bed, so that will be when we wait for him."

"What time do you usually go to bed?"

"Around ten-thirty to eleven."

"Then let's leave for your house at about nine."


	11. The Confrontation

_By the fall of the snow,  
a single soul will go.  
The footsteps on the white,  
there's an unholy light.  
There's a hole in the sky.  
Something evil's passing by.  
What's to come?  
When the siren calls you go,  
to run with the wolf_—

"Run with the Wolf"—Rainbow

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XI**

Flurries melted on Adrian and Richter's coats, as they entered the Tepes residence.

"God, isn't Spring ever going to show up?" Adrian said.

"Well, at least it's not a blizzard," Richter responded.

Upon entering the home, Adrian lit some of the candles on the sconces and built a fire.

"Damn, it's cold in here!" Richter said, while his breath morphed into a cloud.

"What do you expect?" Adrian said, while he stoked the fire. "The fire must have burned out long ago."

Richter nodded, while he sat at the dinner table. "Well, at least it's bearable—unlike the temperature outside."

Adrian's response was to nod, while he grabbed a key to his wine cabinet.

"It's at least an hour until ten," Richter said. "What should we do?"

"I thought we'd have a glass of wine," Adrian replied, while he brought Richter a glass. "After that, maybe we'll play cards." Adrian placed a deck of cards on the table, beside his wine glass, and sat next to Richter. "I don't want to drink too much, because then we'll be in no shape to face Wadim." Adrian took a sip. "If he shows up."

Richter also took a sip. "I understand you, but if we go outside to watch for Wadim, we'll have to find someway to keep warm."

"Wine's not strong enough to do it. In my wine cabinet, I have a pint of brandy. If we get cold enough, we'll sip on that; and if only one glass of wine is in our bellies, we won't get drunk. But let us not be concerned about that now. We need to worry about creating a scene of activity in this house, so Wadim will believe somebody is at home."

At ten, Adrian carried a candle to the master bedroom, placed it in a holder, and blew it out—before he returned to the master room. The curtains had been drawn in the master room, and the fireplace provided the only source of light.

"Let's go out," Adrian said. "We'll hide behind the side of the house that's next to the bedroom."

* * *

The flurries that existed an hour ago had turned into a significant snowfall.

"'Well, at least it's not a blizzard,'" Adrian whispered to Richter, with a smirk. "I hope you didn't curse us."

Richter returned the smirk and whispered, "Sorry."

But at least the snow did not find its way into the eyes of Adrian and Richter. And the faint light of the moon allowed them to see anything that would come near the master bedroom. Nevertheless, it was quite cold.

"Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"Could I please see that pint of brandy? If I don't get something warm in my belly soon, my teeth are going to start chattering."

"Certainly," Adrian said, while he removed the brandy.

Richter took a sip. "God that feels good!" he said, before he returned the bottle. "Adrian?"

"Yes?" Adrian replied, as he returned the brandy to his pocket.

"How long do you think we'll have to wait out here? Wadim could simply beat us by not showing up."

"That won't be necessary, gentlemen," a voice said.

Adrian and Richter jumped.

"That voice!" Richter said.

Under the moon's faint light stood Wadim, with his arms tucked inside the sleeves of his coat.

"I wouldn't want you to get drunk on that brandy waiting for me," Wadim added. "By the way, Father Belmont, how are you? It's been what, nearly a month now? I suppose I could have saved you a lot of trouble by visiting Maria at your estate, but then I decided that I would confront you here."

Adrian's eyes grew wide. "How do you know Maria's there?" he asked, while he stepped out of the shadows, with Richter behind him.

"I know quite a number of things."

"You know, for someone who grew up in this village, you're quite arrogant."

Wadim raised an eyebrow.

"Father Belmont and I have confronted monsters that were twice as powerful as you are, and…"

Wadim held up a hand. "Yes, yes, I know! I was twelve years old, when Father Belmont defeated Dracula. And I was seventeen when you and Father Belmont faced, and defeated, your father."

Adrian gave Wadim a look. _"My father?!__ No one in this village knows that Vlad Tepes is my father—not even Maria's parents. All I've ever told people is that I have ancestry to Vlad Tepes. Wait! Natalia knew. Could she have told Wadim?"_

"Is there any reason for that look?"

"Vlad Tepes is not my father."

"Come now, we both know that he is."

"How do you know that?"

"It is a gift of the enlightenment. But that is truly insignificant. What is significant, is that both of you have fought and defeated creatures a lot more powerful than me. I admit that. However, I do have one advantage that those monsters did not have."

"And what's that?"

Wadim tapped his finger against his temple. "My mind."

"Are you trying to say that Vlad the Impaler was stupid?" asked Richter.

Wadim shook his head. "No, he wasn't stupid, but he didn't have a mind like mine. Perhaps because he was thinking with a fifteenth-century mind, and I'm thinking with a nineteenth-century mind. Nevertheless, I'll give him credit. The last time he came back, he decided to flee for the West. Why would he do this? Because in the West, the idea of a vampire is viewed as some ridiculous superstition. I know. I lived in Paris for a while. And that is one of the strengths of the vampire—that people will not believe in him. However, I don't have the ability to flee to the West. Therefore, I have to use my mind. For example, my kiss on Natalia. Everyone, particularly her, would recognize a vampire's bite. That's why I had to make my kiss resemble a spider's bite. But despite that, I realized that I would be the main target for vampirism. Therefore, I stole the corpse of a man who had been executed by hanging, and dressed him in the clothes I wore to the gallows. And in case you're wondering how I was able to find another set of clothes, or another casket, no one knows who I am in another village."

Adrian and Richter chose not to respond to Wadim's discourse.

Instead, Richter asked, "How did you survive?"

"By finding the gifts of the enlightenment."

"That's not what I asked," Richter said, as he crossed his arms. "How did you survive death?"

"I already told you—by finding the gifts of the enlightenment."

Adrian looked at the ground. _"This isn't going to get anywhere…_Why did you target Natalia?" Adrian asked, while he returned to Wadim.

"People like her deserve death…"

"No one deserves death."

Wadim chuckled. "Oh, come now, Father Belmont. All of us were born to die. But I don't want you to concentrate on that. I want you to concentrate on how people like Natalia finally get what they deserve."

Richter shot Wadim a look. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember what I told you, before I was executed? About how people who follow the teachings of the Church get shitted on, compared to those who do not?"

"…I remember something like that, yes."

"It was people like Natalia, who shitted on people like me."

Richter shot Wadim a look. "What do you mean?"

"I did my best to follow the cross, and I was shitted on for that attempt. But what about Natalia? She commits adultery and fornication, and she lives in a large manor house—while so many other people are struggling to survive. Is that God's will, Father Belmont? Does that seem fair? I can promise you one day that Christianity will be a dead religion!"

Richter did not respond.

"Natalia got what she deserved," continued Wadim, "well, not quite. Natalia didn't get what she deserved, until last night. I sent her after Maria's eldest child. I knew that Adrian would stop her, and kill her."

"You're not one for honor, are you?" Adrian said, as he stepped forward.

"I am where it's valid."

"Since you're in such a talkative mood, perhaps you'll answer a question from me?"

"Perhaps."

"Are you doing to Maria the same thing you did to Natalia?"

Wadim shook his head. "No, not quite. With Maria, I'm only appearing to her in her dreams. With Natalia, I actually brought her to me."

"Yet, you're wanting to turn her into a vampire?" Adrain added, with a glare—while he crossed his arms.

Again, Wadim shook his head. "No, I only want to lead her to the enlightenment. However, I do believe that as an undead, she can best accomplish that goal."

Adrian unsheathed his sword. "Then you and I have problems!"

"I guess so," Wadim said, not at all bothered by Adrian's sword.

Adrian leapt, and swung his sword; but when his sword closed in on Wadim's flesh, it was repelled by an unseen force. Whatever the force was, it sent Adrian to the ground. "What the hell?!" Adrian said, as he pulled himself up.

Wadim shook his head and tisked.

Richter attempted a follow-up attack, with his whip. But the unseen force repelled the blessed whip as well.

"I guess the Belmont family whip wasn't truly blessed, was it, Father?" Wadim uncrossed his arms. "Now that you two have had the chance to attack, it's my turn." Wadim waved his arm, and, again, an unseen force sent Adrian back to the ground, and gave Richter his first taste of it. "Like I said earlier, it's my mind that puts me above others, and that is why you won't be able to defeat me," Wadim added, before he fled into the shadows.

Adrian and Richter groaned, as they returned to their feet.

"He's gone, isn't he?" asked Richter, while he held his chest.

"Yes," Adrian said, with a nod—as he gently held his chest. "I was caught off guard."

"Vlad the Impaler didn't even have that kind of power."

"No, he didn't…Yet, he knows who my father is. Not even Maria's parents know that. I want to know who told him. The only person I can think of was Natalia, when he was stealing her life from her."

"Who cares about that? What's more important is whatever prevented us from attacking him."

Adrian looked at the ground, now with a blanket of snow. "I suppose so," he said, before he returned to Richter. "Belmont?"

"Yes, Tepes?'

"Let's go back to your residence. I want to check on Maria and the boys. We can talk on the way there."

* * *

On the return trip, Richter carried a lantern, and acted as a guide to the Belmont Estate.

"Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think caused that shield of his? My whip ricocheted off of it, like a bullet on a piece of steel."

Adrian looked at the blanket of snow, before he answered, "I don't know."

"It must have been demonic."

"…I don't know."

"Certainly the crucifix, and especially the Eucharist, would work."

"Not if you can't get close enough to use them."

Richter, now, looked at the blanket of snow. "I suppose you're right." And returning to Adrian, "So what do we do now?"

"Wadim talks a lot about the Enlightenment and being enlightened. Maria told me, after you gave me that work of his, that he seemed to change, after he came back from Paris. Something life altering must have happened to him there."

"That's all fine and good, but how does that help us?"

"I need to go to Paris, Richter."

Richter was stunned. "Huh?"

"I need to find out what happened to him there…There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"How can I go? How can I go, and leave Maria and the boys, while Wadim's on the loose?"

Richter turned to the snow. "Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"Maria and the boys can stay with Annette and me. I'll protect them."

Adrian returned to the snow, before he nodded. "Put up plenty of crosses, crucifixes, and icons—especially around windows. And make sure all the doors are locked."

Richter nodded. "I will. Don't worry, they'll be quite safe."

Adrian returned the nod. "Thank you."

"Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"When do you plan to leave for Paris?"

"Just as soon as I find out where Wadim stayed."

"While you're away, I'm going to warn the citizens, and continue the search here. Wadim has to sleep somewhere. If I can find his resting place, maybe I can stop him?"

"All right, but promise me three things."

"One?"

"Try not to cause a panic within the village."

Richter nodded. "Two?"

"Take care of yourself."

Again, Richter nodded. "And three?"

"Take good care of Maria, Lysander, and Alcander, while I'm away."

* * *

In a guest bedroom at the Belmont Estate, Adrian sat on his bed in an upright position, while his wife—in her beautiful nightgown—wrapped her arms around his neck, and ran some fingers along his chest.

"So you're going to Paris?"

Adrian nodded. "As soon as I can find out where Wadim lived, since I know that you and the boys will be safe with Richter and Annette."

"How's your French?"

"I speak good French. I'm not concerned about that." Adrian ran his fingers along his wife's arm. "Do you know where Wadim went, when he was in Paris?"

"He went to the university there," Maria replied, while she played with her husband's hair. "He was a student there, at the University of Paris."

"…That's run by the Catholic Church, is it not?"

"At one time I think it was."

"I wonder why Wadim chose to go there?"

"…I really don't remember."

Adrian nodded. "Well, at least you've answered my question of where he was. Now I know where I'm going."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

Maria nodded. "I see. Well then," she continued, as she motioned herself onto Adrian's lap—and motioned him to lie back, "I don't think you can go all the way to Paris without some encouragement." Maria massaged Adrian's thighs, but then one hand moved to unbutton his pants, while the other grabbed his crotch. Adrian moaned softly, while Maria gave her husband a devilish grin.


	12. All the Evil Seem to Live Forever

**Author's Note:** Greetings, everyone! Well, for this chapter we're leaving Romania and entering France. As always, please continue to read and give me critical reviews.

_Eleven saintly shrouded men,  
silhouettes stand against the sky.  
One in front with a cross held high,  
come to wash my sins away_—

"Sign of the Cross"—Iron Maiden

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XII**

When Adrian and Richter return to the Belmont Estate the previous evening, and Adrian discussed his intention to go to Paris, Richter suggested that Adrian should travel by ship, because—according to Richter—the sea would be faster than traveling across the continent. Adrian decided to take Richter's advice, and left for the Black Sea port of Constanta the following day. From Constanta, Adrian would travel from the Black Sea to the Mediterranean Sea—eventually arriving at the Gulf of Lion and the French port town of Marseille; and from Marseille, Adrian would take a carriage to Paris. All of this seemed fine in theory, except that on the journey, Adrian discovered an ailment he never knew he suffered from—seasickness. Adrian's trip from Constanta to Marseille, which was almost a week, was spent in the cabin of the ship's doctor. On a particular day when the ship's doctor was away, Adrian—with perspiration on his forehead—stared at the ceiling and said, "My father had the ability to control the winds, and the winds could affect the seas. But look at me, lying in some hospital bed! I don't know how long it'll take me to return to Romania by way of the continent, but there is no way that I'll travel by sea again! Plus, I'm of no use to people dead."

* * *

As Adrian stepped off the ship at Marseille, he wanted to kneel and kiss the ground, but chose not to—because he did not want to stand out among the hundreds of people that gathered around the port. Although, Adrian had originally planned to travel to Paris the day he docked in Marseille, Adrian decided to go against that plan, and spend the evening in Marseille. 

Adrian left Marseille for Paris before dawn, and arrived in the French capital late on a Saturday afternoon. After checking into a hotel, Adrian made his way to the campus of the University of Paris. While on campus, Adrian decided to visit one of Paris most famous structures—the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The exterior of the cathedral showed signs of chipped stone—particularly on the figures of Jesus, the saints, and the kings from the Hebrew Bible. Inside the church, altar boys were lighting the chandelier candles for evening mass, and their glow brought out the interior of the thirteenth-century church—the gothic columns and the stained glass windows. Near the communion rail, Adrian admired the small crucifix. Yet for all its material culture, Adrian considered Notre Dame to be somewhat 'plain,' compared to the interior of St. Basil's in Moscow. While Adrian admired the cathedral, an old priest—who appeared to be in his seventies—asked Adrian if he was here for evening mass.

"No, Father, I am simply admiring your cathedral."

"Yes, it is magnificent! Unfortunately, it is in need of repair, which is unlikely to happen—as the emperor continues to fight wars all over Europe, but your voice…"

"My voice?"

The priest smiled and nodded. "Yes, you speak with an accent. You're not from France, are you?"

Adrian shook his head. "No, Romania."

"Romania? How interesting!"

"Why's that?"

"We don't get too many people from Romania. Although…I do remember a student from Romania once."

"Really? A resident from my village actually attended the university. You don't happen to remember the Romanian student's name, do you?"

"Wadim was his name. He always stood out in my mind, because he used to stop in the cathedral some. Wadim said it was more peaceful than the library. I remember asking him if he'd like to say for mass, and he told me that he couldn't, because he wasn't Catholic."

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"He had blonde hair and, I think, blue eyes."

"Do you know if he was from a town called, Warakiya?"

The priest's eyes turned to the floor. "No, I sure don't." Returning to Adrian, the father added, "I know that he told me, I just don't remember."

Adrian nodded. "Part of me is wondering, Father, if this 'Wadim' you mentioned is not the same 'Wadim' that's from my village. However, this is a big campus, so I'm sure that there could be a lot of 'Wadims' here. Therefore, I need to ask, what kind of person was he?"

"He was certainly a nice boy, but I think he kept to himself a lot. Sometimes I think that hurt him…Especially with one episode in particular."

"One episode in particular? What are you talking about, Father?"

The priest sighed. "One day I encountered him, in almost a trance-like state. He was sitting over there," the priest pointed to a particular pew, "and was staring at the crucifix behind the altar. I asked him what was wrong, and he gave me this look." The priest gestured to his face. "I can't quite describe it, but it was a look of anger or frustration. He told me that he didn't belong here. And when I asked him, if he meant Paris; he replied, 'No, the church.' I tried to ask him what he meant, but he didn't answer me. Instead, he brushed beside me, and left the church. I never saw him again after that." Again, the priest looked at the floor, before he returned to Adrian. "Has what I told you fit the man, who's from your village?"

"I think there may be some similarities, yes."

The priest smiled. "If you see him, will you tell him that the old priest from Notre Dame says, 'hello,' and that I've been praying for him?"

"Uh," Adrian began, as he looked to the floor—before returning his gaze to the priest, "sure, Father."

The priest maintained his smile. "Thank you."

"Father?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If this 'Wadim' you and I have been talking about is the same one from my village, my wife, who grew up with him, told me that he began to change, after reading some of Voltaire's works. Perhaps that describes his reaction that day you saw him in church."

The priest's lip curled. "Damn those philosophers! They can lead so many people to Hell!"

Adrian was taken aback by the priest's rhetoric.

The priest raised a hand and sighed. "I'm sorry, but those philosophers can lead so many people away from the truth. Young men need Plato and, especially, Aristotle. They don't need Voltaire and Rosseau."

"I wonder if Wadim was a philosopher?"

"I think he was a philosopher, but it's been about four years since I last saw him, so it's hard to remember. The best way to find out would be to check the registry that's found in the library. It has a list of students from various years, and states what discipline they are in. But on the subject of Philosophy, I do know that the university makes students take courses in it."

Adrian and the priest watched the altar boys walk past them. All the candles in Notre Dame had been lit for evening mass, and their glow brought out the best in the old church.

"Well," the priest began, "I should take my leave. Mass is about to begin."

Adrian nodded, but before the priest could leave he said, "Father?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know of anybody in the university, who might know more about Wadim?"

"If Wadim was a Philosophy major, which I believe that he was, there is a group of Philosophy students that often gather in the rest area of the Sorbonne that is located in the Philosophy department. One of them might have taken a course with Wadim. Certainly the faculty would know who he is. Nevertheless, check the registry first. That will tell you exactly what field of study he was in."

Adrian nodded. "Thank you, Father."

* * *

Adrian's first impression of the University of Paris' library was to remind him of the library he saw growing up in Castle Dracula—the candle wax burning, as students were absorbed by the books, while other books were covered in dust, because the students found no interest in them. 

"Excuse me?" Adrian said to the librarian.

"Yes, sir?" the librarian replied, a gentleman with glasses in his early sixties.

"I'm looking for a copy of the registry. Could you tell me where one is?"

"Over there, on that bookshelf," the librarian said, pointing. "At least that's where we keep the last fifty years. If you want to research the students of the university further back, then you'll have to visit the archive downstairs."

Adrian gestured a hand. "No, that won't be necessary. Thank you."

At the bookshelf that housed the present and former students of the University of Paris, Adrian placed his chin between his thumb and first finger. "_Let's see. Maria told me that she met Wadim sometime after she gave birth to Lysander. That was four years ago. Therefore…"_ Adrian secured a copy of the University of Paris' 1804 registry, and turned to the letter 'C.' Motioning his finger down each name, Adrian discovered what he was looking for:

_Carol, Wadim.  
__Major: Philosophy  
__Minor: Theology  
__Class: Senior  
__Home: Warakiya, Wallachia_

"_Based on this information here, the 'Wadim' that the priest at Notre Dame knew, and the 'Wadim' from Warakiya may in fact be the same man. I guess the next place I need to go now is the Sorbonne, and the Philosophy gathering."_

* * *

The sun began its descent, as Adrian passed the two stone columns of the Sorbonne. "_I almost think I'm entering a church, when I see that cross on top of the dome."_ The interior of the Sorbonne was covered with marble, and contained mosaics depicting the life of Jesus. Adrian estimated some of the marble and mosaics to be at least seven hundred years old. "_So this is one of the oldest universities in Europe, eh? It certainly is an interesting place. I wonder sometimes what university life is like, since I never had the opportunity to go to a university? When I return home, I'll have to mention places like this to Maria, as possible future destinations for Lysander and Alcander." _

The Philosophy department was not too hard for Adrian to find, as it was one of the oldest disciplines offered at the university. The rest area was also not too hard to find—the remains of cigars and wine glasses gave its location away.

"Good evening," Adrian said, as he entered the rest area.

Only one student was in the room, but he stopped puffing on his cigar, when Adrian, and his foreign accent, greeted him.

"Would it be all right, if I joined you?"

Again, there was a pause, before a man, in his early twenties, replied, "Certainly!"

Adrian smiled. "Thank you. Would it be all right if I sat down?" Adrian asked, while he gestured to a chair.

"Yes, please," the man responded, gesturing to the chair. "The name's Jacques, by the way," he added, standing up. "Would you care for a glass of wine or a cigar?"

"Some wine would be fine, but I don't smoke; and the name's Adrian, by the way."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Adrian. I hope that my smoking doesn't bother you?"

Adrian shook his head and gestured. "Not at all. I've been to taverns with far more smoke, than what I see in here."

Jacques smiled, as he handed Adrian a glass.

"Thank you."

"By the way," Jacques began, returning to his chair, "I can tell by your accent that you're not from France."

"No, Romania," Adrian said, with a sip.

"Fascinating! I remember a student, in a few of my classes, that was from Romania."

"Really? Do you remember his name?"

"…Wadim…Wadim Carol, that was it. He was older than I was, and often kept to himself, but he was brilliant. I used to talk to him some before classes. I'm amazed, however, as smart as he was, that he decided not to stay on in the university, and receive his masters."

Adrian took another sip. "I believe that I may know that man."

"Really?"

Adrian nodded. "If we're talking about the same man, he's from my home village of Warakiya, but he graduated about four years ago."

Jacques nodded. "That would sound about right. I entered the undergrad program about five years ago, and now I'm in my second year of graduate studies."

Adrian took a sip. "Do you remember what he looked like?"

"I remember that he was moderately tall, and that he had blonde hair and blue eyes."

With another sip, Adrian added, "That certainly fits the description of the man from my home village. If we are talking about the same man, then perhaps you can answer how he came home from France a changed man?"

"Not unless I know how he changed from what he was before."

"He rejected his Christian faith."

"Oh," Jacques began—while he lit his cigar, "that doesn't completely shock me. He had ideas like that when I first really got to know him."

"What do you mean?"

"I can remember him telling me he was frustrated by the whole Christian religion. Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant—it was all the same to him. Wadim told me that he couldn't understand how people who didn't attend church, and could care less about the faith they were baptized in, seemed to get all the good out of life, while those who did everything the Church told them seemed to get all the worst." Jacques took a puff. "I remember telling him the typical Christian response, after he told me all that. About how a Christian isn't suppose to live for the world; to which Wadim responded, 'Yeah, but we're part of the world!'" After another sip, Jacques added, "I can't say that I blame him. What do you think, Adrian?"

Adrian took another sip and replied, "I can understand what he's saying from a personal experience, which I won't go into, but there's a sad truth to reality."

"What's that?"

"The good die young, and the evil seem to live on forever."

Jacques finished his glass and nodded. "Oh, yes…Anyway, I told Wadim that if Christianity wasn't working for him, maybe he should look into something else."

"Such as?"

"I mentioned some of the great philosophers. Voltaire especially, which is interesting since Wadim should have been more familiar with Voltaire's work than I was as a freshman student." Jacques took another puff. "Now that I think about it, I can remember Wadim reading a book that would forbidden in most countries—particularly Russia, as backwards as they are."

Adrian smiled and nodded. "And what was this book?"

"It's called the Grand Grimoire. It's a book on black magic. Wadim thought it would be funny to read, since his church forbid him to read such books." Jacques took his final puff. "And I guess mine would too."

"Where does one get such a book?"

"You can get it in the library; they have a copy of it. However, you can't just check it out—due to the fear of somebody burning it."

"So it can only be read in the library?"

"Yes, but you have to put a deposit down. It's another tactic of the library to keep people from stealing it."

"How much is the deposit?"

"I don't know exactly. A couple Francs, I'm sure."

"I'm tempted to see this book."

"Well, it's over in the library. Go and have a look at it."

* * *

"Excuse me again?" Adrian said, when he returned to the reception desk. 

The librarian chuckled. "Ah, welcome back! What can I do for you now, sir?"

"I understand that you have a book called, the Grand Grimoire?"

The librarian nodded. "Yes, we have such a book. But you'll have to put a deposit down."

"And what is the deposit?"

"Three Francs."

Adrian nodded, and placed three Francs on the counter.

The librarian took the Francs, and returned with a green book that appeared to be rotting from its binding. "Due back in two hours."

"Thank you."

* * *

Adrian sat at a desk that was lit by a pair of candles. With each turn of the page, he had to use caution, as the book could easily fall apart. The Grand Grimoire was not a long book, but Adrian was not in the mood to read the entire book. Instead, he read what he needed to know. The Grand Grimoire discussed making a pact with a demon in exchange for their power. What this pact entailed, the book did not say. But the demon that it mentioned was Asmodeus, a demon found in the Book of Tobit from the Hebrew Bible. "_I remember Richter telling me that in Wadim's cell there was a book on sorcery. However, it was quickly burned by Father Hans. I'm almost wondering, if this could have been the same book that Father Hans had burned? But where would Wadim get a copy of such a book? It's not one that you'd find in a store. Maybe the librarian knows?"_

After Adrian returned the Grand Grimorie to the front desk, the librarian said, "One moment and I'll have your money."

Adrian nodded. "Thank you."

"Here you are, sir," the librarian said, returning Adrian's money.

"Thank you, sir. By the way, that book, the one that I just looked at, is it actually possible to get a copy?"

The librarian chuckled. "Not unless you can find an extremely liberal printing press."

"And there are some around?"

The librarian smirked. "Maybe on this campus."

"So that book could be printed on this campus?"

"If it could ever find its way out of the library."

"And can it?"

"No." The librarian said short and to the point. "That book will never leave this library."

Adrian was caught off guard by the librarian's sharp answer, but eventually he nodded. "I see…But people can copy it down on paper, can't they?"

"They can, just like they can anything else—although, I would imagine that for someone to copy that book, they must have a lot of time on their hands…Now that I think about it, I do remember a student copying down some of the Grand Grimorie's contents."

"Who was that?"

"I don't know his name, but I do remember that he had an accent like yours."

"_Wadim…!_ He wasn't a moderately tall man, with blonde hair and blue eyes, was he?"

"I don't know, sir. It's been too long ago."

Adrian nodded. "Did he write enough to make a book?"

The librarian placed his chin between his thumb and first finger. "I don't know, maybe a small one. Hell, you can bind anything into a book, regardless of how large or small it is."

"Thank you." Adrian turned his gaze to a clock on the wall. "Well, it's late, and I must go. I thank you very much for our conversation."


	13. The Vampire's Spell

**Author's Note**: Greetings, everybody! Well, let's see, it's been a while. How long has it been? I don't know. Working on a masters is tough, especially when one considers all the papers that you have to write. Anyway, I just finished writing on big paper, so I thought that I would finally get chapter 13 online, since I have a little bit of a break. I hope everyone enjoyed the wait. And, as always, please remember to read and give critical reviews.

_Only a woman can break his spell.  
Pure of heart, who will offer herself,  
to nosferatu_—

"Nosferatu"—Blue Öyster Cult

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XIII**

Sometime after Adrian left Warakiya, an obvious change took place among its citizens. The villagers had been informed of the vampire threat through the town council, and ultimately through Richter; however, they were informed of the threat in a misleading manner. Warakiya villagers, like all people, suffered from fear. However, Warakiya villagers were also familiar with the threat of vampirism. What worried Richter was that an amateur hunter might try to make a name for himself or herself by attempting to go after Wadim on his or her own. If Richter and Adrian had trouble against Wadim, how would an amateur fare? Therefore, Richter informed the town council that he was not certain if a vampire existed, but that he was searching. Nevertheless, Richter made a reference to the villagers, citing St. Paul, that they should 'put on the armor of light' to protect themselves. The villagers responded to the potential threat by placing large crosses at all the entrances or exits of Warakiya. Icons, crosses, and crucifixes were also placed on the windows and doors of homes. Church attendance increased. And once evening arrived in Warakiya, the town transformed to a lighted ghost town—only the very brave chose to venture under the night sky. At Vasile's, Vasile sold beer and wine to his patrons for them to take home; or if they wished to stay in his tavern, Vasile rented his rooms at very affordable rates. Those who chose to stay at Vasile's were often frequented with Edward's stories about how Christ will conquer the Devil. But during a time of potential crisis, patrons were captivated by Edward's rhetoric, rather than annoyed by it.

Inside the Belmont home, Maria knelt with her children to say prayers. Like all young children, Lysander and Alcander did not enjoy praying when they had to, but Maria would not allow them to leave her side, until she had finished her prayer. And after putting their children to bed, Maria and Annette kissed each child, and asked for God's blessing among the many icons in Christian's room and Sidra's nursery.

In her guest room, Maria crossed herself, before she blew out the candle that illuminated the icon of St. George the Dragon Slayer. Only the moon provided light for Maria's guestroom, and as she closed her eyes, Maria implored God to grant safety to her children, herself, her husband, and her kinfolk.

Yet even with her eyes closed, Maria could still sense the glow of the moon—to the point that she imagined its appearance outside the Belmont Estate. And then, she was standing beneath it—with the trees of the forest blowing peacefully.

"Good evening," came the familiar voice of Wadim.

Maria turned.

Wadim was dressed in black, while the moon illuminated his blonde hair. "How are you, Maria? You look lovely. You know…"

"The hell do you want?"

Wadim tisked. "Now, now, that's no way to say 'hello' to me. I just wanted to tell you…"

"Murder! You murdered Natalia!"

Wadim gestured a finger. "Technically, no, I didn't murder her. Your husband did that. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you…"

"You took life from her! You drained her life, and made her your own—an innocent woman!"

"Well, yes, I did do that. But I don't know if I'd call Natalia 'innocent.' If she was innocent, then maybe God should have protected her—just like He protected the holy innocents from Herod."

Maria said nothing.

"Or maybe He was just angry with her. Adultery is a mortal sin, you know?"

Again, Maria said nothing.

"However," Wadim began, with a gesture, "I didn't come here to talk about that. I came here to talk about what I always liked about you."

Maria glared. "And what's that?"

Wadim motioned a finger around his lips. "Your lips—those beautiful lips!"

Maria was stunned. "Huh?"

Wadim grinned. "Yes, I saw it all. The day before your husband left, to find the secret that will kill me, I watched you wrap your lips around his dick."

Maria could not believe what she was hearing.

"I must say that you're quite good at that. I'm no longer the shy boy I was ten years ago, so I'm going to ask you, Maria; could I not receive the same treatment?"

Maria wanted to yell, but thought better of it. If Wadim could play mind games, so could she. Maria grinned. "That would be adultery, Wadim. And adultery is a mortal sin."

"Yes, but God is not here to witness it. There is only the darkness now."

Maria continued to smile. "This is also just a dream." Maria made the Sign of the Cross in the air.

Wadim turned and snarled.

"Now leave!"

"Mommy!" called the voice of Lysander.

Maria gasped. "_Huh? What?! Sander shouldn't be here!"_ Maria turned to the voice. It was indeed Lysander in his pajamas.

"What are you doing outside, Mommy? Uncle Richter said that we weren't supposed to go outside at night, because it's dangerous."

Wadim smirked. "This also is not a dream."

"Sander! Quick! Get inside!"

But it was too late. Lysander was quick, but Wadim was quicker. The monster held Lysander by the arm, while the four-year-old screamed, trying to break free.

* * *

Lysander's cries woke the family members inside the Belmont Estate, but it was Richter who responded.

"Lysander!" Richter began. "How could he have gone outside?! He was given strict orders not too!"

Richter suspected a vampire attack, and secured a crucifix from his dresser.

* * *

Outside the Belmont Estate, Richter feared that he would see his young nephew trapped by a monster. His fear was indeed confirmed, but what shocked Richter was Maria's presence. He knew that Maria would arrive eventually—after hearing her son scream—but he did not expect to see her outside already.

Richter's presence made Wadim turn one eye to the vampire hunter, flash his fangs, and grab Lysander by the head. "You even think about using that trinket, and I'll sever this boy's head right before your eyes!"

"…All right," Richter said, while he placed the crucifix on the ground.

But Maria, watching her son in complete danger, remained calm. She boldly walked to Wadim.

"Mommy!"

Maria gestured for her son to be silent. Calmly, but firmly, she said, "Wadim, let my son go."

Wadim smirked.

Maria did her best to remain calm. "For God's sake, let him go!"

Wadim continued to smirk. "Didn't I tell you once, Maria, that God is not here?"

"What do you want?"

Wadim removed a portion of his shirt, and cut his chest. Black-red blood descended from the wound. "I want you to drink from me, Maria. Think of it to be like drinking the blood of Christ."

Without giving it a second thought, Maria said, "Let my son go, and I will."

"Maria?!" Richter responded.

Maria turned to him. "It's all right. Nothing is more important to me than the safety of my children."

Wadim chuckled, while he pushed Lysander away.

And Maria boldly approached her former classmate.

"Mommy!" Lysander cried, while he did his best to look over his uncle's shoulder, as Richter carried him back inside the Belmont Estate.

Once Lysander was safe in the house, Richter returned. Wadim had departed, but from her knees Maria sobbed. Her lips were covered with the vampire's blood; and in her sobs, Maria repeated the word "unclean."

* * *

Maria continued to weep, as Richter guided her back inside the house. After the two were inside, Annette immediately locked the door. Maria fell to her knees, and placed her palms on the floor—and through her tears she vomited.

"That's all right," Richter said, with a hand on her shoulder. "That will help remove some of the poison."

But Maria was unable to respond. Instead, she fainted. Thankfully, not into her own vomit—although, her nightgown was stained.

Richter scooped Maria up, placed her on the sofa, and cleaned her face. Over Maria's face, Richter made the Sign of the Cross.

"How could this have happened?" Annette asked, while she looked down at her sister—running her fingers through Maria's hair.

Richter did not respond to Annette's question. Instead, he asked, "Is Sander all right?"

Annette nodded. "He's fine; Riff helped him back to sleep. He's something of an older brother to Lysander…And I guess to Alcander as well. Still, I don't know how he'll be in the morning."

Richter returned the nod. "What about Sidra and Cander?"

"They're fine. They didn't stay awake too long during the whole ordeal. Plus they were in the crib, so they didn't see anything. Still, I don't see how this could have happened. The icons, the crosses, the crucifixes—they should have repelled him."

"Icons, crosses, and crucifixes are but mere symbols—they're not infallible. However, Adrian told me once that when a vampire sees a crucifix or an image of Christ, they somehow see the image of Christ glaring at them. That is often what repels them, and normally keeps them away."

"But this time they failed, and with so many of them," Annette responded, skeptically.

Richter nodded. "I see your point. I'm sure that a lot of those questions will be answered later. Still…" Richter approached the door that he had led to the scene of Lysander in Wadim's clutches. "I thought that Lysander had foolishly unlocked the door and had gone outside, but now I question that."

"Why's that? If he stands on his toes, he could probably unlock the door."

"That's possible, but I don't think he would do that."

"How come?"

"He still remembers his incident with Natalia, and his mother and I told him that people like Natalia would be out at night. Furthermore, when I charged out this door, I saw Maria on the other side of Wadim. Therefore…I have reason to believe that it was Maria, who unlocked the door; and Lysander, seeing his mother outside, must have wondered what was going on."

"But why would Maria go outside?"

Richter placed his thumb and first finger against his trim beard. "I don't know…Wadim does appear in dreams—that is apparently how he makes his presence known. Yet with Natalia, it was obviously not a…Wait!"

"What?"

"Vampires are known for being able to use mind control to lure their victims outside, or to let themselves inside a home. Some of these supposed 'dreams' were obviously not dreams, but tricks of the mind. I have reason to believe that Wadim used similar tricks on Maria."

"But the icon…?"

"The icon was knocked off the door." Richter opened the door, and grabbed the icon of the 'Fiery-Eyed Savior.' "You see?" he said, showing Annette the icon, before he returned it to its nail. But a gust of wind sent the 'Fiery-Eyed Savior' back to the ground. "I suppose that the forces of nature are the culprit of that one," Richter said, as he closed the door.

"Don't vampires have the power to control nature?"

"Some very old ones do. Dracula was such a vampire, but Wadim is no Dracula; yet he is a clever man, nevertheless…clever and very powerful."

Annette nodded. "Yes, you told me about that—about his shield. It makes me wonder what other powers he might possess."

Richter placed his thumb and first finger against his trim beard. "I don't know."

"Wouldn't the icons that we placed along the windows in Maria's room prevent him from entering her mind?"

"I don't know if they'd prevent the dreams. Like I said, they're not infallible. Still, why don't we look?"

* * *

With a pair of candles to guide their way, Annette directed Richter—who carried the sleeping Maria—into the guest room. Richter placed Maria on the bed, took the candles from his wife, and turned to the window. The crucifix that had been placed outside had fallen, and the cross—that had been placed inside—had fallen as well. "The crucifix fell outside. We can probably blame the wind on that. However, in here…" Richter returned the cross to its nail, but he noticed that the cross was not sturdy. "The cross is not secure to the nail. Anything could have knocked it off. Didn't Maria hang this up earlier?"

Annette nodded. "Yes, she did, and I remember her having trouble with it. But while she was working on it, Lysander and Alcander got into a fight in the hallway, and I guess that distracted her from making sure that the cross was sturdy."

"That seems rather foolish of Maria, don't you think?"

"Not when you consider how badly young children can distract you."

Richter nodded. "Point well taken." And looking at his sister-in-law, he added, "Why don't you get her out of that nightgown?"

"Should I stay with her?" Annette asked, with a glance to her sister.

"If you want to that's fine. But it's nearly dawn. I don't see Wadim coming back."

* * *

The next morning, Alcander found himself changed by Sidra's nurse, rather than his mother; and Lysander, still visibly shaken, thought only of his mother. Leaving Christian's bedroom, Lysander charged to the Belmont guestroom, where his mother would be inside. But before Lysander could enter, his uncle stopped him.

"Wanting to see your mother, Sander?"

The four-year-old nodded.

"She's resting right now."

"Is Mommy all right?"

Richter paused. "Yes," he said with a smile and a nod. "She's fine."

"Who was that man? Mommy didn't really drink his blood, did she?"

"…Uh, no, she didn't. She just needs to rest. It's you, who I'm worried about, Sander."

"Me?" Lysander said, pointing to himself.

Richter nodded. "Yes, you—please come with me."

Richter directed Lysander into his study, and sat in a chair that was beneath a large portrait of St. Michael the Archangel casting Satan out of Heaven. "I think you're big enough that you can sit in the chair over there," Richter began—pointing to the chair, "or would you prefer to sit on my lap?"

"I'll sit in the chair," Lysander said, as he climbed into the chair. The chair was certainly not meant for a four-year-old, and Lysander's legs dangled over the floor.

Richter chuckled. "Care for some candy?"

The word 'candy' perked Lysander's interest.

"Well?"

"Yes, please!"

Richter handed Lysander a piece of candy, and the boy placed it into his mouth.

"Sander?" Richter continued.

"Yes?" the boy said around his candy.

"Why did you go outside after dark, after me and your mother told you not to?"

"I saw Mommy outside, and wondered why she was outside; after what you and her told me."

Richter nodded. "I understand. Did you unlock the door, or was it already unlocked?"

"It was already unlocked."

"Do you remember if the icon of Christ was on the ground?"

"…No."

Again, Richter nodded. "I see_...Well, at least one question has been answered. I am certain now that Wadim must have controlled Maria's mind, and she unlocked the door herself."_

"Uncle Richter?"

"Yes, Sander?"

"Who was that man? He looked like a monster."

"_I truly wish he wouldn't have asked that question again. Adrian told me what Maria had told him about the incident with Natalia, but now he's experienced a similar episode. I think I'm going to have to let him in on some of the truth. After all, it's not like he's never going to hear about it anyway. I just hope that Adrian and Maria won't kill me over this."_

"Uncle Richter?"

"…Yes." Richter said with a nod. "Yes, that man was a monster. Sander, let me ask you a question. Do you remember being inside a strange castle, a long time ago?"

"…No."

"I didn't think so. It was probably a stupid question for me to have asked, since you were much younger than your brother is today. Well, let me ask you this, do you ever remember hearing the name 'Dracula'?"

"Oh, yes! Mommy said that me and Cander couldn't go out after dark one time, because something called 'Dracula' would get us."

Richter nodded. "Dracula is not a 'something;' he's a 'someone.' He was a monster, but your Dad and I stopped him."

Hearing that his uncle—but particularly his father—stopped a monster, brought pride to Lysander. "Really?"

Richter smiled. "Yes, really! But there are others, who are like Dracula. What you saw last night happened to be one of those monsters, which is what happens to people, if they turn against God; something you should never do," Richter added, waving a finger.

"Yes, Father," Lysander said with a smirk.

A part of Richter wanted to get upset with Lysander's gesture, but he knew where Lysander got it from. Richter maintained his smile. "You're like your father in many ways. But Father Richter was being serious. Those who love God, and serve God, can keep the monsters away."

"How do you do that?"

"Make the Sign of the Cross."

Lysander crossed himself.

"Monsters hate that gesture—they'll run away from it! Now, do you know how to make the Sign of the Cross in the air?"

"Uh?"

Richter showed him, and Lysander copied it.

"That's it! Monsters hate that gesture as well. They'll run away from you every time."

Lysander, again, made the Sign of the Cross in the air, before he asked his uncle, "Can I go see Mommy now?"

"Well…well, let me make sure that she's still not sleeping…"

"I can wake her up! At home, I've got Cander out of his crib before, and we go wake up Mommy and Daddy."

Richter smirked. "_I'm sure that Adrian and Maria must love that_…Well…I think that she may be more tired that usual. After all, she did have to keep her big boy safe from a monster last night."

Lysander smiled and nodded.

Richter returned the smile, even though he had to force himself to smile. "_Now I can only pray that Maria doesn't want to symbolically lynch me."_

* * *

Richter gestured for his nephew to wait, while he entered Maria's guestroom. Richter's turn of the knob forced Maria to open her eyes, even though she resisted by rubbing her hand over them.

"How are you feeling?"

Maria shot him a look. "I have poison running through my veins. What do you think?"

"You regurgitated some of it last night."

"…So I remember," an embarrassed Maria said.

"Don't be embarrassed," Richter gestured. "That was the best thing to do. It helped remove some of the poison. The rest will leave your body eventually, but it will take some time. You'll have to remain in bed, and inside, for a while."

Maria nodded, but it was a nod that seemed to reveal that she already knew Richter's words, before he spoke them—yet she did not care about them at the moment. "How's Lysander?"

"He's fine. He's outside waiting for you at the moment, but I need to tell you something first."

"Before you do, how's Alcander?"

"He's fine. I had Ilka, Sidra's nurse, change his diapers this morning."

Maria nodded. "Good. So what do you want to tell me?"

"Lysander asked me this morning if you drank that person's blood, and if that person was a monster?"

"And what did you tell him?"

Richter lowered his voice—out of fear that Lysander may be placing his ear to the door. "I told him 'no' on the blood. I just couldn't reveal the truth to him on that, but I did tell him that Wadim was a monster. I didn't say what kind, but I related Dracula's name—which he knew—and stated how there are others, who want to be like Dracula. I told him that staying in God's grace keeps them away, and showed him how to make the Sign of the Cross in the air."

"Why…"

Richter gestured Maria to lower her voice. "He might be trying to listen in on us."

"Why," Maria continued—this time with a lower voice, "did you let him in on Wadim? He's only four."

"I didn't tell him Wadim's name, and this is twice he's had an extraordinary experience—unless you count his time at Castle Dracula. If I didn't tell him, he was eventually going to find out about it anyway."

Maria paused, before she sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Would you like me to bring Lysander in now?"

"Before you do, would you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Would you take Sander and Cander to my parents? And it might be a good idea if you took Riff and Sidra there as well."

Richter nodded. "Very well, and I think you're right about Riff and Sidra."

Maria returned the nod.

"Well, let me bring Sander in."

As Richter opened the door, Lysander had to jump back. Richter's assumption was correct. Lysander was trying to listen in on the conversation between his mother and uncle.

"Sander," Richter began with a smile—guessing that he was trying to listen in, "go see your mom."

Lysander presented Maria with his best smile, as he charged to her.


	14. Whispers in the Night

**Author's Note**: Hey, everyone! Well, it's been a while, but the semester is over, so now I can concentrate on finishing this story a little bit more. This chapter is probably the longest I have written, but I find it to be one of the best. And for those, who might be wondering, _Shadow Hearts: Covenant_ did influence me a lot on this chapter, but I think the particular scene in question from _Shadow Hearts_ was influenced by the Book of Tobit. Oh, and one other point to mention, what I mentioned about the _Grand Grimorie_, I do not know if such things actually exist in that text, even though it is considered a "black book." As always, please continue to read and review.

_Lights out!  
We live in a world of darkness.  
No doubt!  
Everything's up for sale.  
We sleep.  
All of the world is burning.  
We pray,  
to God for a better deal.  
Nothing is sacred, back then or now.  
Everything's wasted.  
Is that all there is?  
Can I go now?_

_Judas, my guide,  
whispers in the night.  
Judas, my guide_—

"Judas Be My Guide"—Iron Maiden

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XIV**

It had certainly been a while, since Maria had found herself away from her children, and she was adjusting to not hearing them giggle, running all over the house, or asking her to read to them. But Maria was not alone. She had her sister and brother-in-law. However, Maria was advised to remain inside for the next couple of days, which she considered to be an absolute bore; yet once Richter believed that most of the poison had left her, he would give her the Blessed Sacrament. At night, Richter and Annette decided that they would take turns watching Maria sleep to protect her from Wadim.

However, on her first night under the care of Richter and Annette, Maria found herself standing in the forest outside her home with only a faint glimpse of light—as the moon attempted to battle its way through a cloud.

"Good evening, Maria," came the familiar voice of Wadim. As he approached Maria, he held out a hand. "Don't worry. I mean you no harm…"

"The hell you don't! You threatened to murder my four-year-old son, and…"

"I never would have harmed him, but I realized that he could help me fulfill my ultimate goal. Plus I knew I could use him to keep Father Belmont away."

"I don't believe you!"

"We're in a dream state, Maria," Wadim responded, not at all bothered by Maria's tone. "You're safe in the Belmont home." Wadim gestured his arm, and opened his cloak—allowing a small image to form in the air. The image displayed Maria sleeping peacefully in the guestroom of the Belmont Estate, with Annette guarding her. "You see?"

Maria looked at the image, before she returned to Wadim. "Leave me alone!" she said, while she made the Sign of the Cross in the air.

"That's not going to bother me here, Maria. Like I said earlier, this is a dream state—and it's for this reason that I used your son as a hostage."

Maria shot him a look. "Why?"

"After our talk last night, I realized that you truly do not understand me…"

"What do you mean, I truly don't understand you? You already told me once that you loved me, and…"

"And I told you that you were poisoned by the system as well."

"Along with being poisoned by your blood!"

"And it is through my blood that you will realize how corrupt this system of Christianity is!"

Maria's look remained the same—not at all bothered by Wadim's tone. "The only corruption I know is your blood through my veins."

"It will leave you soon enough. You know that, right?"

"Unless you attack me again."

"That won't be necessary. After I show you, what I intend to show you."

Maria prepared a response.

But Wadim gestured for her to stop. "Drinking my blood allows you to see images, such as the one you saw of yourself resting at the Belmont Estate." Wadim lowered his hand. "Maria, yes, you know what I have told you before. But I still do not believe that you truly understand me, and do you know how we can fix that?"

Maria sighed. "How?"

"By seeing the world through my eyes. By understanding my thoughts, and my feelings."

* * *

Once again, Wadim opened his cloak. However, this time a tiny scene did not appear in the air. This time the entire landscape changed. No longer were Maria and Wadim in the forest outside the Tepes home, they were now inside a church—a church at night, which was lit only by the prayer candles, and the light of the moon that shone through the stain glass windows. A high mass must have taken place earlier that day, because incense could be smelled.

Maria was in awe.

"I can tell that you recognize this place."

"Recognize it? Obviously! This is the old Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows Church, as it used to be, before it burned down. I grew up in this church. Yet it's been gone for close to three years that I had forgotten what it looked liked."

"You're not the only one who grew up in this church, you know?" Wadim said, as he gestured for Maria to follow him.

And Maria agreed.

Wadim directed Maria to a young man of about fifteen-years-old, who was kneeling before the iconostasis deeply in prayer.

Maria was stunned.

"You know who this young man is, don't you?" Wadim asked, with a gesture.

"The young man is you! That's obvious. You haven't changed much over the years, except that your hair is longer."

Wadim smiled. "I always loved coming to this church in the evening. I could simply pray better at night. Do you know what I was praying for this evening?"

With one eye toward the youthful Wadim, and the other toward his elder counterpart, Maria replied, "What?"

"Put your hand on top of my head," Wadim responded, gesturing to his youthful image. "You'll be able to read my thoughts."

With one eye still turned to the elder Wadim, Maria placed a hand on his younger appearance. The fifteen-year-old Wadim did not budge, but the touch of his hair shocked Maria. "_It's soft, almost like Alcander's."_ But the touch did more than reveal the texture of Wadim's hair. Maria felt as though the fifteen-year-old was speaking to her, even though his lips did not move. These are the words that Maria sensed:

_Dear Lord,_

_I beseech your aid. There is a girl that I like very much—Maria Renard. And I think that she likes me. She gave me this look today during class. Could you give me a chance to talk to her alone? I realize that to some, I'm going over my head. I'm going after a girl, who's the sister-in-law of Richter Belmont. But I'm a good person—you know that, Lord. So please, O Christ, bring Maria to me. Amen. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Amen. And Mary, the Theotokos, pray for me. Amen._

Maria watched Wadim sigh, as he kept his eyes focused upon the iconostasis and the crucifix above the altar. Maria contemplated the words of Wadim, until a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Wadim?" a familiar voice said.

Maria's eyes grew wide. The voice belonged to a man she had not heard since Alcander's baptism. A man she knew who was dead—Father Miceadu. Yet here he was alive, once more. "Father?!"

"He can't hear you, Maria," Wadim said.

Maria turned.

"They are but shadows of the past."

Maria returned to the younger Wadim and Father Miceadu. "_I had almost forgotten what he looked like. The last time I saw him was at Alcander's baptism, and he died shortly after that."_

"It's late, Wadim," Micaedu said. "Don't you think it's time to go home, child?"

"…I suppose so," Wadim said, as he crossed himself, while preparing to leave the pew.

"You certainly were in the church late tonight. Is something on your mind, child?"

Wadim paused, before he shook his head. "No, not really, Father. There's just something about a church late at night that helps me escape from the world."

"I see. Well," Miceadu began—as he patted Wadim on the back, "take care of yourself. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Thank you. Take care, Father," Wadim said, as he prepared to leave the church.

And while Wadim exited the church, the vision of 1795 faded, and Maria and Wadim found themselves back in the present, in the forest outside the Tepes home.

"Well?" Wadim said, as he gestured to Maria.

"Well, what? You had a crush on me, when you were a teenager. You already told me that once before."

"But you heard my thoughts. You heard my prayer to God and to the Virgin, yes?"

"Yes."

"Well, don't you understand me better, because of it?"

Maria shook her head. "No, Wadim, I don't. Your prayer reminded me of the man I knew years ago. You were cute but shy."

"So what if I was shy? What difference does that make?"

"It makes a lot of difference, if you won't communicate with me! But seriously, why are showing me something that happened thirteen years ago? Surely you couldn't have had a crush on me that lasted for thirteen years?!"

"Off and on," Wadim responded, not at all bothered by Maria's rhetoric.

"Off and on?! What the hell's wrong with you?! Didn't you ever grow up?!"

Wadim shot her a look. "And if it wasn't for this dream state, I'd drain your precious drops of life!" Then Wadim smiled. "Good things always happen in 'threes," Wadim added, as he flashed three fingers. "Don't you agree, Maria?"

Maria changed her expression, for she understood Wadim's reference. Although a part of her believed that Wadim could not hurt her, she also knew that she was still subject to his control.

Wadim grinned. "That's right. Good girl!"

Maria gritted her teeth.

"Now then, let's continue on. No complaints?" he asked, mockingly. "Good! Well, then, as you know, I left the village for Paris. Now certainly I saw a lot more women in Paris, than I did growing up in the village. None of them were as pretty as you," he said—while he gestured to Maria, "but they were pretty nevertheless."

Maria had to force herself not to smile. But it was hard, based on the compliment Wadim gave her—she was prettier than any other girl in Paris.

"And certainly there were some girls that I liked," continued Wadim, "and I think that they liked me as well."

* * *

Wadim opened his cloak, and another image formed, but it was a scene that was foreign to Maria. Maria and Wadim found themselves in a building with a marble floor, surrounded by mosaics that depicted the life of Christ. At first Maria thought she was in a cathedral, but there were no priests walking past her—only people carrying books.

"Where is this place?"

"It's the Sorbonne—the major building on the campus of the University of Paris."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because I wanted you to see something. Look," Wadim said, while he gestured.

Wadim's gesture was to an image of himself, chatting with a pair of girls. Wadim appeared to be in either his late teens or early twenties. Maria did not know for certain how old he was, but his appearance was similar to his present-day form—except that now he had grown his hair long and refused to wear a wig. As for the girls, both were petite, and let their natural hair show. One of the girls had green eyes and blonde hair, while the other had brown eyes and hair. Maria, however, was unable to properly hear the conversation between Wadim and the two students, due to the noisy students around them.

"I'm surprised to see female students here," Maria said.

"Well, there's not very many, but there's a few here and there."

Maria turned to watch the brunette girl giggling at Wadim. "That girl there," Maria began—pointing to the brunette, "I can tell that she really likes you."

"Yes," Wadim said with a nod. "Josephine was her name. You're going to see more of her. That night me and her studied together in the library, and then she asked me to walk her home. I was more than happy to oblige."

* * *

Once again, Wadim opened his cloak, and the landscape changed. Maria and Wadim were now inside a small bedroom; one that Maria could tell was quite feminine, due to its lavender curtains—along with the dolls and toy rabbits on the shelves. Inside the bedroom were Wadim, and the woman Wadim identified as 'Josephine.' Wadim sat on the bed, while Josephine stood in front of him, with her back turned to him.

"So," Josephine began, "how would you compare Paris with, where did you say you were from? Wallachia wasn't it?"

Wadim nodded. "Yes, I'm from a village in Wallachia. So obviously there's a big difference coming from a small village to a large city."

Josephine returned the nod. "I see."

But as she nodded, something caught Maria's eye. "_Wait! Is she removing her bodice?"_

"So what brought you to Paris?" continued Josephine.

"Education. I heard that the University of Paris was one of the best in the world, and I had a desire to study some of Western Europe's best thinkers."

"Oh? You didn't come, because you heard that Paris had some of the most beautiful women in the world?"

Wadim chuckled. "No. No."

Josephine giggled, and her bodice had been unlaced, allowing her breasts to be exposed. However, Wadim remained oblivious to it.

"Well, do you think I'm pretty?" Josephine asked, while she flashed her breasts.

Wadim swallowed a lump in this throat, and looked at Josephine in awe. Maria did her best not to giggle, because the look on Wadim's face reminded her of a fifteen-year-old boy seeing a breast for the first time.

"Well?" continued Josephine.

"Y-yes."

Josephine giggled, and approached Wadim. She sat next to him on the bed, and began to run her fingers through his hair; and taking her free hand, she began to pull one of his hands to her breast.

But Wadim recoiled. "I can't."

"What?! What do you mean 'you can't'?!" Am I not pretty enough for you?!"

"You're pretty enough, but I can't," Wadim added, as began to leave the room.

"You're a queer, aren't you?"

Wadim stopped, and shot Josephine a look. "I am no queer, but I can't engage in sexual activity."

* * *

And at the conclusion of Wadim's sentence, the scene changed, and once again Maria and Wadim were in the forest outside the Tepes home.

Maria noticed that the look on Wadim's face had changed. From Maria's perspective, it appeared as though Wadim showed her a scene from his past that he would have preferred to have buried. "You seem as though you didn't want to show me that scene?"

Wadim shook his head. "No, I didn't. But I needed to show you it, so you could better understand me."

"Why couldn't you make love to that girl? You said so yourself that you thought she was pretty. So why couldn't you make love to her?"

Wadim shot Maria a look. "I can't believe that you would ask me such a question! You know exactly why I couldn't make love to her!"

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"'You shall not commit adultery.' 'You shall not commit fornication.' You know the teachings of the Ten Commandments and Jesus just as well as anybody, but the fact that you asked me, makes me wonder something. Are you a virgin, Maria?"

Now it was Maria who shot Wadim a look—with the exception that her look was in confusion, not anger. "What kind of question is that?! You know that I have two children…"

"No!" Wadim gestured. "I mean were you a virgin before your wedding night?"

"…No."

"So you were a sinner?"

"We're all sinners, Wadim…"

"But the Church says we're supposed to be saints, correct?"

"…Yes."

"That means you should have been more like the person, whom your name derives from—the Blessed Virgin Mary?"

"…Yes…_I think I'm beginning to understand him, but I'm also beginning to wonder if he's not sexually frustrated…_Are you a virgin, Wadim?"

Wadim chuckled and gestured. "No. No. But I probably would have been, if I would have continued to follow the Laws of the Church."

"So what changed you?"

"You're curious to know?" Wadim asked, with a smile.

Maria nodded. "Yes."

"It was a couple of things," Wadim began, as he paced. "The first was sometime after I came home from Paris about four years ago. Do you remember that day, Maria?"

"Was that they day you saw me carrying Lysander?"

Wadim nodded. "It was at that moment that something happened. When I came home I saw the girl that I prayed so hard to God for enjoying the gifts of this life. But why not me? Why were my prayers not answered? After all, I refused a girl that tried to make a pass at me. I kept the faith, just like St. Paul said."

"Perhaps, because…"

Wadim gestured. "I don't want to hear it. I've heard all the Church's bullshit answers that I'm just so sick of it!" Wadim paused. "Have you ever heard of Lisbon, Maria?"

"Lisbon?"

"It's the capital of Portugal. Have you heard of it?"

"Yes, I've heard the name of the city before."

"Have you heard about the earthquake that happened there?"

"…Not really."

"It happened a little over fifty-years ago. First an earthquake crushed the city, and then a typhoon followed. Around 60,000 to 100,000 people died; no one knows the exact number. When I returned back to Paris, I told a friend of mine that I was beginning to be frustrated by Christianity as a whole. He told me that he understood exactly what I was talking about, and he gave me a forbidden book."

"A forbidden book?"

"Yes. It was a book placed on the Catholic Church's Index of Forbidden Books. Of course, since I'm not Catholic, I could care less about that—even though this book would probably find its way on a 'band book list' in either Russia or from the Patriarch of Wallachia."

"So what was the name of this book?"

"It was called Candide. It was a book written by Voltaire shortly after the Lisbon disaster."

"So how did this book affect you?"

"At one time, Maria, people followed the philosophy of a German named Gottfried Leibniz. Now, Leibniz taught a philosophy that when something bad happens, God allows it for the greater good of humanity. But Voltaire looking at Leibniz's philosophy, and looking at the Lisbon disaster, concluded: 'The loss of 60,000 to 100,000 people is somehow acceptable for the greater good of humanity?!' Hell, even Abraham begged God to find at least one good person in Sodom and Gomorrah, before He destroyed those cities. You mean to tell me that 60,000 to 100,000 people—many of whom were devout, loving Christians—were going to somehow bring plagues to the human race? These people from Lisbon who died, something struck me about them."

"What?"

"They begged; they pleaded; they prayed; and what did they get? An earthquake and then a typhoon! And what do people get who refuse to follow a single one of God's Laws? Rainbows and sunshine! Here I was begging and pleading, and all my prayers fell on death ears, while those who offered no prayers found all the glory. Is this God's will? Are these His methods? And people like your brother-in-law would probably tell me that I lacked faith. What a bunch of bullshit! I had just as much faith, if not more than any of them. I could just simply no longer submit. The truth is, Maria, there is simply no God of mercy. There's nothing more than the God of torture."

Maria said nothing.

Wadim sighed. "Anyway, after reading Voltaire, I told another friend of mine that I didn't know what to believe anymore. The truths that I had believed, since I was a child, that I held to be irrefutable were now inverted. Another friend told me that maybe I should look at another forbidden book, just to see what I would think of it."

"What was it called?"

"It was called the Grand Grimorie, and like Voltaire's Candide, you'll never find it published in this country. The library had a copy that could never leave the library, and students would have to put down a deposit, so they could actually read it. The book discussed how one could make a soul pact with Asmodeus—a demon from the Book of Tobit. But to do such a thing great risks would be involved."

* * *

Again, Wadim opened his cloak. But this time the landscape did not change very much. Maria and Wadim were still in a wooded area, but Maria could tell it was not the forest outside her home.

"Where is this place?" Maria asked.

"This is a small wooded area outside of the University of Paris. Students come here to party—sometimes they come here to have sex with their girlfriend—but on this night it was particularly quiet, save for one young man."

Again Wadim gestured. And once again, his gesture was to a past reflection of himself. Based on Wadim's appearance, Maria could tell that this was an event that took place not too long ago. In one hand, Wadim held a folded piece of paper; and in the other, he grasped a necklace that contained a small Byzantium cross. Wadim stared at the cross, as though he was in a trance.

"Do you see me staring at the cross?"

"Yes."

"There is a reason why I was staring at that cross."

"Why?"

"That cross was my baptismal cross. Father Micadeu gave it to my parents, after my baptism."

Wadim sighed, and tossed the cross to the ground.

"And that was my final break with God," the elder Wadim said. "There was now no going back."

Wadim positioned himself under the moon, and unfolded the piece of paper. "Asmodeus, the demon with destructive power, come forth. I wish to speak with you." Within moments after the Wadim finished his sentence, the wind began to increase; and it seemed as though the earth would open up. Then a shadow in the form of a beast appeared—a beast with three heads.

"Who has called me forth?" the beast said, in a harsh tongue.

"Wadim Carol."

"What do you want?"

"The Lord, God, has betrayed me. I have begged, pleaded, and done everything to submit myself to God's will; but God turned a deaf ear to my prayers. I am tired of the corrupt system known as 'Christianity.' What can you give me?"

But the Wadim would not allow Maria to hear Asmodeus' response. He immediately opened his cloak, and returned the two to the present age outside the Tepes home.

* * *

"So now do you understand?" Wadim asked.

"Why didn't you want me to see what happened next?"

"Why does it matter? My whole goal in showing you all these scenes from my life was to get you to understand me."

"Yes, but…"

"But what?"

"I'm curious to know what happened next to you."

"I went through with the soul pact with Asmodeus…"

"Wadim?"

"Yes?"

"Does this soul pact mean that you forfeited your soul?"

"…Maria?"

"Yes?"

"I don't believe that I even had a soul to forfeit, but I suppose that for the purposes of the Church, the answer would probably be 'yes.'"

Maria nodded. "I see…But you don't know that exactly?"

"I truly don't care to know, Maria…However," Wadim began with a smile and a gesture, "it seems as though you're actually caring about me, which makes me believe that you actually understand me now."

Again, Maria nodded. "I always cared about you, Wadim; and now seeing these images of your life, I think I do understand you…"

"So that means that you…"

Maria gestured. "I'm not finished. What I was about to say was that you were a person who tried too hard to see the world through the images of black and white—good is rewarded and evil is punished. I certainly had that look when I was younger, but after my first experience in Castle Dracula, I realized that the world isn't that easy to define. I viewed myself as an innocent person, so why did God allow Dracula kidnap me? When Dracula kidnapped Lysander, when he was only three months old, and Lysander nearly died, where was God for Sander?"

"Exactly…"

"I'm not finished again!" Maria said, with another gesture. "I could have turned just like you did years ago, but I didn't. Yes, God delivered my child safely back to me, but I had learned from my earlier experience that the world isn't perfect, and I couldn't look at it as 'perfect' anymore. I also learned that I'm not a perfect person. I fail at things all the time, and I have to realize that I won't be as perfect as my saint's name—Mary. All I can do is try to be a good person and nothing more. I realized this when I was about thirteen-years-old, but it looks like you weren't able to realize it—if you even have—until it was too late, and that is why you made the decisions you made in life. And all I can do now Wadim is hope that you didn't really sacrifice your soul, and offer you prayers at every mass."

The first time Wadim appeared to Maria in a dream, Maria was able to silence him; but now he was truly silent. Wadim fell to an upright position, and presented Maria with a look that was similar to a lost child looking for its mother.

But Maria would not give in to Wadim's mannerisms.

"Fine!" Wadim said, as he returned to his feet. "We'll see in the end, which one of us truly made the right decision—farewell!"

* * *

And it truly was a farewell, for when Maria opened her eyes, she found herself back in the guestroom of the Belmont Estate—with Richter watching over her.

"So did you have a goodnight's rest?" he asked her, with a smile.

Maria did not respond to Richter's question. Instead, she asked, "Richter, are you celebrating mass today?"

"Um, no, it's not yet Saturday evening."

"Could you celebrate mass today? I would like to attend."

Richter shook his head. "No, Maria I do not think that would not be a good idea. Not yet, anyway. I want the poisons to work their way out of your body a little bit more. Perhaps tomorrow you can attend mass, and receive the Blessed Sacrament."

Maria paused, before she nodded. "Very well. Could you let me be alone for just a minute?"

"Certainly," Richter replied, with a smile and a nod, as he left the room.

Once Richter was gone, Maria turned to an icon of the crucifixion, and in prayer she said, "_Lord, remember your words to the Jews and the Romans that day, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.' Remember those words with respect to Wadim, because I feel that he truly did not know what he was doing that day in Paris."_


	15. So Bring an Exorcist

**Author's Note**: There's one thing I want to point out to everyone, although maybe some got it already. Whenever you read people talking, and the quotes are in _italics_, that means that it is in the person's thoughts. I have decided to fix that for the next couple of chapters, but previously that was the intention. As always, please remember to read and give me critical reviews.

_So bring an exorcist,  
a wizard,  
and a holy ghost_—

"Ear in the Wall"—Black Sabbath/Heaven and Hell

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XV**

Normally when Adrian leaves one destination for another, he often writes to his wife. But on this occasion, Adrian decided against it. He assumed that by the time the letter would reach Warakiya, he would already be home. Traveling from Paris to Romania by land, rather than by sea, would be a longer trip, but Adrian realized it was the only decision he could make—for as he said once before, he would be of no use to anyone dead. But even though it would be a longer journey, it would not be a boring one. Before he left Paris, Adrian purchased some souvenirs—mostly for his wife and children—but one for himself. For the journey home, Adrian purchased a copy of Dante's The Divine Comedy; and when Adrian's eyes were not gazing at the beautiful European countrysides, his eyes were focused on the story of Virgil and Beatrice, guiding Dante through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. "_Dante's view of the afterlife is quite fascinating! I must ask Richter what he thinks about Dante's work—particularly Purgatory—since the Orthodox Church has no set doctrine on Purgatory. Also all these many circles of Hell—I wonder if the Catholic Church has an actual teaching on this. Dante seems to place people he despises the most into the lower depths of Hell, although I guess with some of the people there, it probably makes sense. Judas Iscariot I can understand, but I'm not sure about Brutus and Cassius—and this 'Simon Magnus' figure. I have never heard of him before, or at least not that I can recall."_

* * *

As Adrian approached Warakiya, he noticed the changes that had taken place, since his departure—the large crosses at the entrances and exits to the village; and crosses, crucifixes, and icons on the doors and windows of villagers' homes. A stop to Vasille's could have revealed all the information that Adrian wanted, but instead, he journeyed to the Belmont Estate, to check on his wife and children, and found himself greeted by the Belmont cook, Anna.

"Master Tepes?! Y-you're back!"

Believing that Anna's tone was due to him arriving back unnoticed; Adrian smiled. "Hello, Anna. How are you? Yes, I am back. May I come in?"

"Y-yes," Anna replied with a gesture.

"Thank you," Adrian added, as he entered the Belmont home. "So where is my wife and double, double toil and trouble?"

"Huh? Excuse me? Who?"

Adrian chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry; I mean Maria, Lysander, and Alcander."

"Oh! They're not here right now, sir. Maria and Annette took the children to their parents."

"Oh, I see. And what about Richter? Where is he right now?"

"He's out at the moment now, sir."

Adrian nodded. "I see. Probably tracking down the monster. Well, I guess I should head over to the Renards, to check on my wife and children."

"Master Tepes?"

"Yes?"

"You'd better wait."

"Why? What for?"

Anna sighed. "I've known you for five years, so I believe that I can tell you this."

"Tell me what?"

"Please, have a seat," Anna said, while gesturing to the dinning table.

Confused, Adrian did as Anna instructed.

"Would you like something to drink?" Anna asked, before she joined him.

"No," Adrian said, shaking his head. "But I would like it, if you told me what's going on."

"Very well," she added, while she took a seat next to Adrian. "As you have probably noticed, everyone in the village prepared for the vampire after you left."

Adrian nodded. "Yes, I noticed."

"But you also know that religious symbols are not magical?"

Again, Adrian nodded. "Yes, I know that."

Anna sighed. "Somehow this monster, this Wadim, was able to lure Maria outside—apparently in a dream-like state."

"What?!" Adrian said, with his voice rising.

Anna nodded. "And apparently Lysander heard his mother outside and decided to investigate it. But the moment Lysander stepped outside, Wadim held him as a hostage."

"What?!" Adrian replied, slamming his fist on the table.

"Please, Master Tepes," Anna began, gesturing Adrian to relax. "It's all right."

"The hell do you mean 'it's all right'?!" Adrian added, slamming his fist on the table once more. "A monster lured my wife outside, and he held my four-year-old son as a hostage! And you're telling me to 'relax'?!"

"Yes, Master Tepes, I am! Because Maria and Lysander are all right, but this table won't be, if you keep pounding your fist on it!"

Adrian sighed. "Fine."

"Please let me continue."

Adrian nodded. "All right."

"Thank you. Anyway, Maria was able to protect Lysander, but to do so Wadim forced her to drink his blood…"

"And that somehow makes it better?!" Adrian asked, trying to keep himself from shouting, or from slamming his fist on the table.

"Please let me finish," Anna responded, not at all bothered by Adrian's rhetoric.

Again, Adrian sighed. "All right."

"After that incident, Master and Mistress Belmont kept a close eye on Maria, until the poison left her."

"And the poison has left her?"

Anna nodded. "Yes. A few days ago, Maria received Holy Communion."

Adrian breathed a sigh of relief. "Good…And Lysander?"

But Anna did not have time to answer Adrian's question, as a third member joined the conversation.

"Good afternoon, An—Adrian?!"

Adrian smirked. "Good afternoon, Belmont. Good of you to come. I need to have a talk with you."

Richter swallowed a lump in his throat. "Um, yes! Yes, of course! Shall we go to my study?"

"That would be fine."

* * *

In the Belmont study, Richter took his usual seat, beneath the portrait of St. Michael the Archangel casting Satan from Heaven, while Adrian took the chair that was occupied by his firstborn, the day after the attack on Maria.

"Anna told me about Maria," Adrian said short and the point, while he locked his fingers. "What happened?"

"I think there were a couple of gaps, we weren't able to close. An icon that was placed outside one of the doors blew off in the wind. The same can be said of a cross that was placed outside Maria's bedroom window, and the one that Maria hanged inside over her bedroom window was apparently not sturdy. Somehow Wadim was able to lure Maria outside, and Lysander hearing his mother, decided to come out and investigate. That's when Wadim grabbed him. I charged outside the moment I heard Lysander scream, but Wadim warned me that if I did anything, he'd rip off Lysander's head."

The words 'rip off Lysander's head' made Adrian clutch one of the handles of his chair. "I'm going to kill that bastard!" But slowly, he relaxed. "Is Sander all right?"

"Oh, yes! He's fine. I was worried about him the next day, but I had a chat with him."

"What did you tell him?"

"I asked him if he knew the name 'Dracula,' and he said that he did; and I told him that there are many people in this world that want to be like Dracula, but I also told him how to protect himself—such as making the Sign of the Cross. Normally, I never would have told him something like that, but he's already had two experiences with the supernatural, so it was hard to leave him in the dark."

Adrian nodded. "Plus I wouldn't be surprised if Riff hasn't told him something about their experience in Castle Dracula four years ago."

"If so, Lysander told me nothing about it. However, there was one thing I couldn't tell him."

"What's that?"

"He wanted to know if his mother really drank that man, i.e., Wadim's blood. I couldn't tell him that."

Again, Adrian nodded. "Anna told me that Maria made a full recovery?"

"Oh, yes! You would never even know that she was sick, if you saw her."

"That's good, because I would never want to see her sick." Adrian paused to look at the icon, 'Christ the Word,' before he returned to Richter. "How long ago did this happen?"

"I guess about two weeks ago."

"I must have not reached France by then."

"How was your trip to Paris?"

"Horrible! I will never travel by ship again, unless I absolutely have to. But the trip back was lovely. I traveled by land, and saw much of the European countryside."

"What did you learn, while in Paris?"

"Apparently due to Wadim's frustrations with Christianity, one of his friends recommended that he consider reading a book called The Grand Grimoire."

"The Grand Grimoire? What's that?"

"It's a book that's been placed on the Catholic Church's Index of Forbidden Books, but it would be banned just as easily in Russia or by our bishop. Why anyone would recommend such a book to a friend is beyond me."

"What does the book say?"

"It discusses how to make a soul pact with a demon known as Asmodeus, a demon from the Book of Tobit. I'm pretty sure that it's the demon, Asmodeus, that's shielding Wadim's flesh. However, I don't know much about the Book of Tobit or Asmodeus, so I thought that you could help me."

Richter placed his thumb and first finger against his chin. "In my seminary days, my specialty was more the New Testament, than the Old Testament. Certainly I've read the Book of Tobit at mass, but I'm far from an expert on it. Let's have a look at it." Richter removed a Bible from his shelf, and placed it on his desk. "The Book of Tobit," he added, while flipping through the pages of the Hebrew Bible. "Ah! Here it is! It looks like a short book, so don't worry, I'll skim through it." With his finger on the text, Richter skimmed through the Book of Tobit, trying to find Asmodeus' name. "Here it is! Here's Asmodeus' name!"

"What does it say?"

"Asmodeus was a demon that harassed a girl named Sarah—killing her husbands. Apparently Sarah was given in marriage to Tobit's son, Tobias. Let me keep reading." With his finger, again browsing through the text, Richter discovered a name that surprised him. "Raphael! St. Raphael the Archangel! He's not thought about much, because Michael and Gabriel often take so much precedent."

"What does it say about him?"

"Give me a moment," Richter gestured, while he returned his finger to the text. "Apparently he's telling Tobias to cut open the gall, heart, and liver of a fish; and that Tobias needs to keep these organs on him."

Adrian's eyes squinted. "That sounds kind of stupid. Why?"

"I don't know yet. Let me keep reading." Richter skimmed through more of the text. "Here we go!"

"What is it?"

"The fish's heart and liver are to be burned as incense to drive out the demon—in this case, Asmodeus."

"What about the gall?"

"The gall is to be used for anointing a person's eyes. I'm not sure why though. Maybe one of my commentaries can help?" From his bookshelf, Richter removed a commentary on the Bible that he purchased from his seminary days, and turned to Tobit. "It says here that anointing a person's eyes with gall was a method for curing blindness in that part of the ancient world."

"Well, I'm not sure if the gall is needed, but it sounds as though we'll be performing an exorcism?"

Richter nodded. "I suppose so."

"Don't you need to have authority from your bishop to do such a thing?"

"No, in my position, the bishop has given me authority to act in accordance with my conscious with any particular situation that comes to me."

"So it appears that we'll be performing an exorcism."

Again, Richter nodded. "Sure sounds like it."

"Let me ask you a question, Richter?"

"All right?"

"While I was away, were you able to find Wadim's resting place?"

Richter shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Wadim's a slippery little bastard, which perhaps makes him worthy of his boast that day, about how we never fought an opponent like him—I'll give him that."

"Any attacks on the villagers?"

"Not that I know of."

Adrian nodded. "I see. Well, I have a request to ask of you?"

"What's that?"

"Could you stop by the market, and the secure the parts that are needed for this exorcism? I have yet to see my wife and children, and I want to see them."

Richter nodded. "Certainly. I can do that."

"Thank you."

* * *

Adrian's visit to the Renard home was certainly a surprise. He and Maria embraced, and he scooped up and carried his two sons. Adrian was especially glad to see that Lysander had not suffered any ill effects from the incident with Wadim; and he enjoyed hearing Lysander laugh, while he bounced and tickled Lysander and his little brother on his lap. After playing with his sons, Adrian presented Maria, Lysander, and Alcander with their gifts. For the boys, Adrian presented them with a pair of toy bears that resembled the French Emperor, Napoleon, and asked that his boys be dressed in the French colonel uniforms that he purchased. For his wife, Adrian presented her with a violet dress that he hoped would be a perfect fit. Not only was the dress a perfect fit, but Maria's long-curly locks only added to its beauty. Adrian smiled—lustfully. "_There's a part of me that would just love to carry her off to one of the rooms, and devour her out of that dress! But that might be a problem; considering the angry in-laws, and two small children—who wouldn't understand what is going on, even though they wouldn't be here, if such acts were not performed."_

Maria, however, understood her husband's lustful desires. "_I'm not sure if it's the dress or these long trips, but he's almost always in the mood for sex, when he comes home,"_ Maria thought with a giggle.

But Adrian's sexual desires would have to wait. He had some important business to deal with first—eliminating Wadim. Nevertheless, he decided to spend a moment with Maria, walking through the woods outside her parents' home.

"Me and Ann used to climb up that tree, when we were little," Maria began, pointing to an oak tree. "Now I see our children doing it. Well, at least Riff and Sander. Cander and Sidra are still too little, but I've seen where they wanted to. While you were away, I climbed onto that branched, and had Mom lift Cander up to me, so he could sit on my lap. You should do that sometime with him."

Adrian smiled and nodded, while he held his wife close—with one hand touching a portion of her bottom. "I will sometime, but how are you feeling, Maria; based on everything that I heard from Richter?"

"I'm fine."

"No more encounters with Wadim?"

"No, and I don't believe that I'll have any more encounters with him."

"No, you won't. Wadim's cursed life will end this evening, if I have anything to say about it."

Maria nodded, held her husband's hand, and leaned close to him. "_Dear God, please have some mercy on Wadim. Let him rest."_

* * *

Before dusk, Adrian dressed himself in some light armor, while Richter did the same—but over Richter's armor, he wore his clerical vestments. In Richter's hand, he carried an incense burner, which contained the fish's heart and liver. In Adrian's hand, he carried a lantern.

"You'll have to give me time to light the incense from the lantern," Richter said, as they walked through the forest outside Adrian's home.

"I can give you time, but can't you light that stuff now? You can't imagine how bad that stuff smells! At least the incense would make it better."

"I can imagine how bad it smells. I bought it at the fish market, and I'm holding it in my hand, but I also want Wadim to show up."

"Why do you want me to show up?" came Wadim's familiar voice.

Adrian and Richter stopped, and attempted to find Wadim's location.

The vampire stood in a tree, dressed in black. He would have appeared like a shadow, if it were not for the moon casting some light on his hair. "I sense that you want fight me again? Do you seriously believe you can defeat me?"

"If we can't defeat you this time, Wadim," began Adrian, "then you can take our lives. You know that we're the only two people in this village that pose a threat to you."

Wadim leapt from the tree. "I was actually thinking about playing a simple game of cat and mouse with you, but now you've willingly asked for me to take your lives. How ironic? The famous son of Vlad the Impaler, and the famous Father Belmont; men who were able to conquer Prince Tepes, but will perish at the hands of someone who is not even close to Dracula in terms of power."

Adrian glared. "We underestimated you once before, Wadim. Now I advise you, not to underestimate us," Adrian said, while he unsheathed his sword.

Wadim chuckled. "Ah, yes! The holy sword of Adrian Tepes! Come Adrian, slice off my flesh! You will fail, of course, but don't worry. After you fail, I'll allow your widow to have a taste of it."

Uttering a war cry, Adrian charged. But the effects were the same, from the previous encounter. Wadim's shield ricocheted Adrian's sword, and with a wave of his arm, Wadim sent the vampire hunter to the ground. Adrian groaned, with a hand on his stomach.

But Adrian was able to fulfill the purpose that Richter wanted. While Adrian distracted Wadim, Richter was able to light the incense from the lantern.

Seeing Richter in his priestly vestments, lighting incense, made Wadim chuckle. "What's this, Father? Are you trying to add a few prayers to Heaven? Are you trying to pray that you'll be able to defeat me? I wonder what would happen, if I were to blow those prayers out?"

Wadim stepped forward.

Richter, however, maintained his courage, and continued to swing the incense burner.

But when Wadim came too close to the incense smoke, his confidence left him. "Wh-what?!"

"St. Raphael the Archangel, pray for us," Richter began. "St. Tobias, pray for us. Mary the Theotokas, pray for us. Take your prayers to Christ, and ask Him to crush the demon that would harm His children."

Wadim began to cough. Black-red blood came from his mouth and nose, as he tried to get away from the incense.

But Richter would not let him get away.

And while Richter continued to pray, Adrian returned to his feet.

"Adrian!" Richter began. "Now! Strike him now!"

Richter did not have to repeat the order a third time. Adrian swung his sword, and this time his sword cut Wadim's flesh. The vampire fell back and snarled—his shield was broken! But with a glare, Wadim cast a pair of fireballs from his cloak.

Now it was Adrian and Richter, who were caught off-guard. Adrian fell back, along with Richter—who dropped the incense burner in the process.

"That's impossible!" Adrian said from his knees, while he pulled himself back to his feet. "Only the very powerful vampires have the ability to do such things!"

Wadim chuckled, and extended his arms.

Adrian and Richter could not believe what they were witnessing—Wadim was floating in the air.

"You broke my shield," began Wadim, "and I must congratulate you for that. But Asmodeus was not the only power that flowed through my veins. Simon Magnus is with me as well!"


	16. Simon the Sorcerer

_Torches blazed,  
and sacred chants were praised.  
As they start to cry,  
hands held to the sky.  
In the night,  
the fires are burning bright.  
The ritual has begun.  
Satan's work is done.  
Six-Six-Six,  
the number of the beast,  
sacrifice is going on tonight_—

"The Number of the Beast"—Iron Maiden

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XVI**

"_Simon Magnus,"_ thought Adrian. "_I know that I've heard that name before."_ But Adrian did not have time to ponder his thought, as Wadim threw another blast of fire at Richter, who was still returning to his feet. Adrian pushed Richter out of the way, but the priest caught a glancing blow. Richter was unharmed, but a portion of his vestment was burning. To distract Wadim, while Richter patted out the flames, Adrian grabbed a bottle of holy water from Richter's belt, and attempted to splash it on the vampire in the form of a cross. Wadim levitated away from Adrian's attack, but a tiny portion of the blessed water struck Wadim's foot. The vampire groaned, while his boot sizzled.

Richter tried to follow Adrian's attack by cracking his whip at the vampire, who continued to rise in the air. Wadim escaped serious harm from Richter, but one crack of the whip did strike the vampire's shin. Black-red blood splattered, and Wadim snarled—and flashed his fangs. Now out of range from Adrian's sword, Richter's whip, or a bottle of holy water, Wadim responded with a volley of fire.

"This way, Tepes!" Richter declared, while he motioned Adrian to the safety of some trees.

"That's right!" Wadim said. "Let the trees protect you from some fire!"

"They'll protect us for a while," Richter said to Adrian. "Thank God it has been raining off and on for the last couple of days."

"But Wadim's right, we can't survive out here forever. The heat alone will bother us, but I don't know a way we can catch him."

"If you think that a watered-down forest will provide you some shelter from the fire," continued Wadim, "let's see if something else will work." A bolt of lightning now emerged from Wadim's cloak, and it severed one of the trees that protected Adrian and Richter.

The force of the lightning knocked Adrian and Richter to the ground, and they were almost struck by the tree that came tumbling down. Rolling away from the tree, Adrian and Richter crawled to another secure location—hopeful that Wadim would not see them.

"Maybe we should have stuck with the 'cat and mouse' game?" Richter said.

"He mentioned the name 'Simon Magnus' earlier. I know that name sounds familiar."

"Simon Magnus? That was a magician that did battle with St. Peter in the Book of Acts and later, traditionally, in Rome."

"I take it that Peter won?"

"Oh, yes! Both times!"

"How did he do it?"

"In Acts…I think he yelled at Simon. I can't remember what he did in Rome."

"Well, I don't think yelling at Wadim is going to do a damn bit a good!" Adrian said, trying hard not to raise his voice. "We have to find a way to get this bastard on the ground!" Almost immediately after Adrian finished his sentence, he began to feel the heat of the flames. "And we have to do it now, before this place becomes an oven!" he said, wiping his brow.

"I'll burn this entire forest to the ground to smoke you out!" continued Wadim. "And if necessary, I'll burn the Tepes home and the Belmont Estate to the ground. Father Belmont! If I were you I'd start saying prayers for your family—that they'll escape in time."

Richter glared, but he removed his glare, when he looked to the heavens. "St. Peter, I can't remember what you did that day in Rome to defeat Simon Magnus, but say a prayer to Christ that He will allow what happened that day to happen to us."

"Well, while St. Peter prays, we have to do something."

"You can still jump fairly high, can't you, Adrian?"

"…I think so."

"If you can leap high enough, where you can either strike Wadim—or distract him—I can follow-up your attack."

"Well, we have to try something." Adrian nodded. "Let's give it a try!"

Charging from the protection of the trees, Adrian leapt—with his sword gleaming under the moon—at the monster. But while Adrian tried with all his might, his attack was not successful. Wadim raised his legs from Adrian's attack, and attempted to counterattack with a spin kick. Wadim did not connect with the full force of his kick, but the side of his foot did connect with Adrian's temple. Adrian groaned, and he did his best to shake off the blow that was ringing in his head. Adrian would suffer a significant bruise from the kick, if he would be able to survive this battle.

Richter maintained a tight grip on his whip, as perspiration began to form between his fingers. But there was no counterattack—it was pointless. Wadim was too far away.

With his large shadow covering the forest, Wadim declared, "You know, I said earlier that I originally wanted to play 'cat and mouse' with you; but when I said that, I intended to be the cat and you would be the mouse. However, it seems as though our roles have changed. I have been the mouse, and you have been the cat trying to get me—only to realize that I'm too strong to be eaten. Therefore, I'm now going to end this. And after I do, I think I'll go and visit Maria and the children."

Adrian clenched his teeth, and cocked his fist, but there was nothing he could do. "_Maria, please look after our little ones. And God, forgive me for all the sins that I have committed."_

But as Adrian was saying his final prayer, he watched something happen to Wadim. "Wh-what?!" Wadim declared, while he acted as though something was fighting with him from the heavens. "The hell's going on?!"

In response to Wadim's question, he found his powers of flight taken away from him, and he plummeted to the earth. When he landed, Adrian could hear Wadim's leg break.

"Fuck!" Wadim said from the ground.

Vampires could break bones like humans, but they were able heal them so quickly that it was impossible for anyone to notice. Richter, however, was not going to allow Wadim time to recover. As Wadim tried to stand, Richter wrapped his whip around Wadim's throat. The chains of the blessed whip burned into Wadim's flesh, and he struggled—and snarled—trying to break free, while the smoke began to rise.

Now it was Adrian's turn to act, as he impaled his sword through Wadim's heart. Wadim's head slumped, and blood poured from his mouth. Ironically, before Adrian delivered the final blow, he watched Wadim cease his struggle, and thought he heard Wadim mutter something. But Wadim would speak no more, as the snap of Richter's whip decapitated him.

Richter fell to his knees, and crossed himself; while Adrian watched the last of Wadim's flames burn out.

"It's finally over now, Adrian," Richter said, returning to his feet.

Adrian nodded. "Yes, it truly is." And turning to Wadim's corpse he added, "Let us burn the corpse, and be done with it."

"Should we bury what will remain from the fire?"

"…Part of me could care less, but I would not be particularly fond of seeing portions of Wadim's limbs in the village square. I'll bury whatever remains tomorrow. Until that time, the creatures of the forest can do as they wish."

After burning the corpse, Adrian and Richter began their journey back to the Belmont Estate. But before Richter returned, he wanted to say a prayer of thanksgiving at Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows. Adrian decided to join him.


	17. One Last Goodbye

**Author's Note**: Greetings, everyone! Well, this would be the next to last chapter, and I must warn everyone that this chapter has quite a lot of religious rhetoric in it. I tried to tone it down some, but when one writes a story about good and evil, there is obviously going to be a lot of religious rhetoric. Other than that, please continue to read and give me critical reviews.

_Cold mystic night,  
it falls on the plain.  
On the grey mountains,  
reigns now the shade.  
Angels of light,  
give them the faith_—

"Nightfall on the Grey Mountains"—Rhapsody

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XVII**

"How's your head?" Richter asked Adrian, as they left the church.

Adrian gritted his teeth, when he touched the side of his head. "I'll live—thankfully, he didn't hit me as hard as he could have. I'm sure I won't feel anything in the next couple of days, but it will be a bruise for a while." Adrian took a moment to look at the sky—watching the stars sparkle, and the moon casting its glow over the Earth. "There is, however, one thing I don't understand."

"What's that?"

"What exactly caused Wadim to fall?" Adrian asked, returning to Richter. "It looked as though he was wrestling with something."

"Perhaps it was an angel, and unlike Jacob, it was something he couldn't handle."

Looking at the sky once more, Adrian nodded. "I suppose so." And returning to Richter he added, "Well, it's still early. Care for a drink at Vasile's, before we return to your house? I think that the patrons would enjoy hearing about how the monster is no more."

Richter chuckled. "Despite your bruise?"

Adrian returned the chuckle and nodded. "Yes, despite my bruise."

But while Richter chuckled once more, he also shook his head. "I think that the patrons are drinking their worries away too much to care. They're having a good time, but my wife and children are not. I want to go and see them. If you want to go to Vasile's that's fine, but I want to go home instead."

Richter's answer disturbed Adrian. Not because Richter refused to go to Vasile's, but it was the reason why he refused to go—his family. Maria had certainly suffered more than any patron at Vasile's. Furthermore, she had suffered more than any member of the Belmont family! "I think you're right, Richter. Maria and the boys need to hear about our victory. I'm coming home with you."

* * *

When Adrian and Richter entered the Belmont home, the very first thing they noticed were the younger members of the Belmont and Tepes clans running around the house in their pajamas—having too much fun to even recognize the return of their fathers. Nevertheless, the happy faces on their children brought a smile to Adrian and Richter. But while the children did not notice the return of Adrian and Richter, the adults did.

"You're back!" Annette said, rising from a chair—along with her sister.

Richter smiled and nodded. "Yes, we are back."

"Does that mean that?" Maria responded, cutting herself off in mid-sentence.

"Like I told you earlier, Maria," Adrian began, "if I had anything to say about it, Wadim's cursed life would end this evening, and I had something to say about it!"

Maria smiled, and embraced her husband; but even in Adrian's grasp, Wadim was still in her thoughts. Leaning against Adrian's chest, with a hand on his that was wrapped around her waist, Maria looked outside a window and thought, "_I just hope he was able to find some inner peace."_

"I think we should all have some wine!" Annette said, while she left the embrace of her husband. "Let me prepare some."

"Would you like some help?" asked Richter.

"Sure. If you want."

* * *

With Richter and Annette out of the room, Maria ran her fingers through her husband's—hoping that he would not be upset at the content of the question she prepared to ask him. "Adrian, can I ask you one question?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"In Wadim's last moments, did he seek any kind of peace?"

Adrian was confused. "Why would you ask such a question?"

"I pity him…"

"You 'pity him'?! Why? After what he did to Natalia? After what he did to you? And how about this bruise that he left on your sweet husband's head?!" Adrian said, pointing to his temple.

Maria turned, kissed her husband's bruise, and ran her fingers through his hair. "He's a lost soul, Adrian, and I just feel sorry for him. It's just something that I feel from growing up with him."

Adrian sighed and nodded. "I understand."

"I mean Wadim was someone who was never able to reconcile himself to the world. His world was one of black and white—good was rewarded and evil was punished. That is, what I think, caused him to take the path in life that he did. I feel sorry for him, and I just hope that in his final moments, he found some inner peace."

Adrian looked at the ceiling, sighed, and returned to his wife. "Before the very last blow, he was struggling. The chains of Richter's whip were burning his flesh; but before I delivered the final blow, Wadim ceased struggling, and I thought I heard him mutter something. I don't know exactly what it was, but I heard something."

"What did it sound like?"

"…I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention—I was trying to end his unholy life. It sounded like he said one word, but I don't know what word it was."

Maria nodded. "I hope that it had something to do with him making peace with God." Maria paused to watch her sons charge into another room, following their cousins. Returning to her husband, she added, "Although we're about to have some wine, would you like to play with the children, before I have to put the baby to bed?"

"Certainly, but you couldn't do a favor for me, could you?"

"That depends, what is it?"

"Could you go and put on that dress again; the one that I bought you from Paris?" Adrian asked, while he gave Maria a swat.

Maria giggled. "Why? So you can remove it from me?"

"You catch on rather quick," Adrian said with a smile.

Maria continued to giggle. "Well, let's spend some time with the children first. They haven't seen their daddy in a while, and would often ask me where you were, when you were gone; and I don't want you to have your thoughts only on me in that dress, when you could be concentrating on making Sander and Cander happy."

"All right then," Adrian said with a smirk, as he prepared to leave his wife—but before he left, Adrian gave Maria another swat, which resulted in another giggle from Maria.

* * *

Maria certainly had no problems falling asleep that evening—after the workout she received from Adrian. But in her dreams, a familiar voice appeared.

"Maria? Maria?"

Maria could not believe whom the voice belonged to. "Wadim?!"

But it was indeed Wadim who appeared before her, although he appeared different. No longer was Wadim a solid form that Maria could reach out and touch. Instead, he appeared more like a 'spiritual being.' A spiritual being clothed in light, which cast a glow in the otherwise void of Maria's subconscious. Wadim smiled. "Obviously we saw which side won, and I'm glad that it was your side, Maria."

"Wadim?"

Wadim maintained his smile. "Before your husband ran his blade through my heart, the Lord appeared to me, and said He wanted a chat. I didn't run away from Him this time—not that it would have mattered, since Father Belmont had his whip around my throat. I uttered the word 'Fine,' which would turn out to be the last word I would utter on earth. Your prayers at mass helped, Maria," Wadim began, while pointing; "along with the prayers of the saints in Heaven. God came to me, and we chatted for a while. I told Him my problems, and He listened. He gave me His response, and I eventually accepted it. Jesus told me that one of the reasons why He said that certain sins could be forgiven after death was that He realized just how hard life is for people. In most cases I would have been guilty of a mortal sin, but I never did give away my soul. I only took on the power of Asmodeus and Simon Magnus. God saw that I was a person calling out for help," Wadim began, as he turned away, "yet I foolishly chose wrong over right. I lost my love for God, I became an undead corpse," Wadim paused to return to Maria, "and I took the life of one of your friends. I'm truly sorry for that." Once again, Wadim turned away. "Yet of all the people God decided to visit, He chose me—truly one of His lost sheep." And turning back to Maria, Wadim added, "And I have you to thank for it, Maria."

"Me?"

Wadim nodded. "Yes, you, your husband, and your brother-in-law; but I wish to thank you the most. Due to your prayers, God confronted me, when I couldn't run away."

Maria smiled. "I'm glad you were able to finally find your inner peace, Wadim."

Wadim returned the smile. "So was I." Pausing for a moment, he added, "Please do me a favor, Maria."

"What's that?"

"Whenever you're at mass, don't forget to say a prayer for those lost souls, and ask your children to do the same—at least when they get older; you never know who you might help."

Maintaining her smile, Maria nodded. "All right, I will."

Again, Wadim smiled. "Thank you, Maria. Now I must say 'goodbye' to you. I hope that we will see each other again; and don't worry, I'll pray for you."

After Wadim's final sentence, his image faded into nothing but light. Light that touched and warmed Maria's heart.

Opening her eyes, Maria found herself in the guestroom of the Belmont Estate, with Adrian at her side. Maria pulled back the covers, and looking out her window she gazed into the moon. "Goodbye, Wadim. Never forget to pray for us."


	18. Bliss in Warakiya

**Author's Note**: Well, this is it—the final chapter, there shall never be another one…maybe. Of the Castlevania stories that I have written over the years, this is the one that I enjoyed the most. Although someone nagged me about how I ended chapter 17. I was trying to create something of a _Bram Stoker's Dracula_ ending, because I didn't want to send Wadim to Hell. Anyway, hopefully, this will be a good ending chapter. I guess the masses—or the few—will let me know.

_Now at the journey's end,  
we've traveled far,  
and all we have to show,  
are battle scars.  
But in the love we shared,  
we will transcend.  
And in that love,  
our journey never ends_—

"Village Lantern"—Blackmore's Night

**Lost Story**

**Chapter XVIII**

The death of Wadim brought changes to the village of Warakiya. Obviously, the villagers removed the many crosses, crucifixes, and icons from their doors and windows—although the town council decided to maintain the large crosses at the entrances and exits to the village. However, the biggest change to Warakiya was the weather. Finally it appeared as though the long winter was coming to a close and spring had arrived. The concept of Easter was truly taking place—people were dying from an old life and rising to a new one. And on one of these warm days, in the early afternoon, Adrian—dressed in lighter clothes—found himself at Vasile's. However, he was not alone. Joining him were his sons, Lysander and Alcander—also dressed in lighter clothes.

"Do you have a good grip on that cup, Cander?" Adrian said to the toddler on his lap.

The two-year-old nodded, and used both hands to put the cup of juice to his lips.

"I believe you're suppose to say something to Vasile," Adrian added, while gesturing to the bartender.

"Thank you," Alcander said with a smile, after he removed the cup from his lips.

Adrian chuckled.

So did Vasile. "He's a charming boy, Adrian."

"Yes, he gets that from his mother—along with her temper," Adrian said, looking down at Alcander. "The same goes for big brother over there," Adrian added, gesturing to Lysander.

Lysander sat on a stool next to his father and brother, drinking a cup of juice as well. However, he was enjoying his juice so much that he did not acknowledge his father's gesture.

Vasile, however, did smile at Lysander, before he returned to Adrian. "Speaking of your wife, where is she?"

Adrian smirked. "Shopping," he said, while he laid his elbow on the bar, and rested his hand against his head. "Spending my money, as usual. I hate shopping, and so do the boys, so I told Maria that I was going to take them here. It's actually a good idea, because it makes her shop faster." Removing his head from his hand, he ran his fingers along Alcander's back. "Someone has to change Cander's diapers, whenever he needs it. Obviously she doesn't see me doing it—and for good reason," he said with a gesture. "She won't be gone for too long."

Vasile chuckled. "Would you like a glass of wine, Adrian, while you wait?"

"…One should be all right, and you can give another cup of juice to the boys—although, I don't know how often it is that you serve juice without alcohol."

"Only when there are young children, or people wanting to sober up." Vasile paused, and turned to a window. "Such as the individual who's about to come through the door."

"Who?" asked Adrian, turning to the door.

In response to Adrian's question was Edward, who blessed the entrance to the tavern, before he entered.

"Oh, Christ!" Adrian said in a sighing-whisper, while he placed his hand to his forehead. "_God, I hope you can perform another miracle soon."_

Edward crept to his usual spot at the bar, and Adrian could tell that his 'creeping' was not due to old age. Rather, it was due to Edward having a few drinks already. "Hello, little ones," Edward said waving to Lysander and Alcander, after he took his seat at the bar.

Lysander and Alcander looked at Edward, but they did not respond.

"Are these your children, Adrian?" Edward asked with a gesture.

Adrian nodded. "Yes, these are my boys, Edward, but I believe that you have seen them at church before."

"Could I give them my blessing?"

Adrian rapped his fingers on the bar. "I suppose so."

Leaving his usual place at the bar, Edward walked over to Lysander, placed a hand on his head, and said, "God loves you."

Lysander presented Edward with a confused look. One that seemed to say, 'What the hell are you doing?' Assuming that the four-year-old knew such language.

After giving his blessing to Lysander, Edward turned to Alcander. Edward performed the same gesture and said the same words. However, Alcander's reaction was different from his brother. While Lysander became confused, Alcander became afraid. He turned his head, and placed it against his father's chest.

Adrian smiled, took the cup from Alcander, and motioned him to a more upright position his lap. "You don't need to be afraid, Alcander. It's never a bad thing, when someone older gives you his blessing." And Adrian perked Alcander up by tickling his tummy.

A few minutes later, Maria did indeed appear, which resulted in Lysander climbing off his stool, and Alcander climbing off his father's lap, before charging to their mother.

"It's about time you arrived," Adrian said with a smile.

"I tried not to be too long," Maria said, while she ran her fingers through her sons' hair. "I wanted to keep all three of my men from getting drunk," she added with a smile.

Adrian chuckled. "Would you like to have one drink before we leave?"

Maria shook her head. "No, we should probably get going. I need to get the house prepared."

Adrian nodded. "All right."

"What are you having to prepare for, Adrian?" asked Vasile.

"The Belmont family. They've been catering us, so now it's time that we return the favor."

* * *

At dusk, Adrian built a fire. While it was warm during the day, it was still chilly at night—and that resulted in the Tepes and Belmont children wearing warmer clothes, while they played in the master room with their mothers. Keeping an eye on their wives and children, Adrian and Richter stood near the doorway between the kitchen and the master room, drinking a glass of wine. 

"You know," Richter began—while he took a sip, "I looked into something the other day."

"What's that?" asked Adrian, also taking a sip.

"The Acts of Peter. Do you remember asking me, after we defeated Wadim, about what seemed to happen to him? How you thought it looked like he was wrestling with something?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I looked up where St. Peter had his final encounter with Simon Magnus in Rome, and Simon Magnus was flying around—showing the people his power. But St. Peter prayed, and Christ responded. Christ took away Simon Magnus' power of flight, and he fell to the earth—breaking his leg in the process. Simon was never able to recover after that fall and died shortly after that." Richter took another sip. "I believe that when I asked St. Peter to pray for us that day, he did, and Christ answered."

Adrian nodded. "I can't dispute that. I'm just glad that Wadim's dead, and my wife and children can live in peace for a while."

"I'll drink to that!"

"You'll drink to what?" asked Annette, while she scooped Sidra from the floor, and carried her over to Richter.

"Yes, do tell!" Maria added, as she carried Alcander with a pacifier in his mouth.

"Richter and I thought we would have a toast of wine to celebrate our victory, and to celebrate that you and the children are safe."

"Well, actually, Adrian," began Richter, "when I said, 'I'll drink to that,' I wasn't talking about wine. I meant that I'll have a shot of your brandy. Remember that brandy that you had that night we first encountered Wadim?"

Adrian chuckled. "You want a shot of that? Are you cold?"

Richter laughed. "No, no. But this is a day of celebration, so why not?"

Adrian paused, before he chuckled. "Eh, sure! Why the hell not? I think I'll take a shot with you."

"Aren't you forgetting someone, Adrian?" asked Maria.

"Yes, I think you are," added Annette.

"Umm," responded Adrian, while he gestured to Alcander and Sidra.

Maria laughed. "Don't worry. We're going to take the babies to Cander's room. They've been antsy to go for a ride on his rocking horse; haven't you, baby?" Maria said, with a tickle for Alcander's tummy.

Alcander giggled, and placed his hands against his mother's shoulders.

"So we'll be back in a moment," Maria added, as she adjusted Alcander, before walking upstairs to the nursery with Annette behind her.

Once the two sisters returned, Adrian entered his liquor cabinet, removed the pint of brandy, and poured a small amount into four unused wine glasses. "God bless!" Adrian said, while he, Richter, Maria, and Annette toasted. And after the four gulped the brandy, Adrian turned to Richter and added, "May the adventure we just had be our last."

**The End**

** Cody **


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